UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  SAN  DIEGO 


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OF  THE 


RENAISSANCE 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA.  SAN  DIEGO 

llWl'Rl1     I      I  .''I1  i 


3  1822  00718  4443 


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SOURCE-BOOKS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE  IN  ITALY  AND  GERMANY. 


A   LITERARY   SOURCE-BOOK 


OF  THK 


ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE 


MERRICK  WHITCOMB,  Ph.  D., 
Instructor  in  Modern  European  History,  University  of  Pennsylvania. 


Department  of  History. 

UNIVERSITY   OF   PENNSYLVANIA. 

PHILADELPHIA,  PA. 

1900. 


COPYRIGHT,    1S98, 
BY 

MERRICK  WHITCOMB. 


PREFATORY  NOTE. 


The  Renaissance  is  a  period  of  especial  interest  for  the  student  of 
history.  In  it  are  found  the  beginnings  of  modern  times.  A  fresh  im- 
pulse sweeps  across  the  Italian  lands  and  penetrates  beyond  the  Alps 
to  the  nations  of  later  development,  stirring  the  Christian  world  to  a 
recognition  of  the  possibilities  of  earthly  life. 

Studied  in  the  bare  inventories  of  dates  and  dynasties  this  period  has 
little  meaning.  The  great  achievements  of  the  time  are  literary ;  the 
vanguard  of  progress  won  its  victories  with  the  pen  rather  than  with 
the  sword.  With  such  conditions  the  study  of  the  Renaissance  re- 
quires a  special  apparatus.  No  mere  catalogue  of  names,  even  when 
reinforced  with  biographical  details,  is  sufficient  to  afford  a  lasting  im- 
pression of  the  Petrarchs  and  the  Poggios  of  the  age.  It  is  only  by 
immediate  contact  with  their  utterances  that  these  personalities  are 
made  a  part  of  our  permanent  intellectual  capital. 

It  is  with  this  purpose  in  view  that  the  following  extracts  have  been 
arranged.  Their  highest  utility  for  the  student  is  to  constitute  an 
appendix  to  the  comprehensive  and  valuable  treatises  of  Symonds  and 
of  Burckhardt.  The  German  humanistic  period,  although  possessing 
an  interest  peculiarly  its  own,  has  not  yet  been  dignified  with  especial 
treatment.*  It  has  been  thought  worth  the  while,  therefore,  to  preface 
the  German  Source-Book  with  a  brief  introduction  on  the  general  con- 
ditions of  German  intellectual  life  in  the  half  century  preceding  the 
Reformation. 

*  Such  treatment  is  at  least  not  available  for  the  English-reading  public.  The 
scholarly  work  of  Ludwig  Geiger,  Renaissance  unci  Humanismus  in  Italien  und 
Deutschland,  lacks  the  fluent  style  that  might  give  it  an  international  acceptance  such 
as  has  been  accorded  to  the  work  of  Burckhardt. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


PART  I.     THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE. 

PAGE 

i.  Dante   Alighieri  :  Extract   from  De  Monarchia ;  Letter   to 

the  Princes  and  Peoples  of  Italy         .....       i 

2.  Francesco  Petrarcha  :  From  Epistola  varies,  No.  25    .         .       8 

3.  Giovanni  Boccaccio  :  Introduction  to  the  Decameron  ;  Novels 

II  and  III 15 

4.  Franco  Sacchetti  :  Novels  CXIV,  CXV,  CXXI  and  CCXVI  .     24 

5.  Poggio  Bracciolini  :  Extracts  from  the  Facetice;  Description 

of  the  Death  of  Jerome  of  Prague      .         .         .         .         -33 

6.  Leon   Battista    Alberti  :     Extract    from   //   Governo    della 

Famiglia  .........     47 

7.  Aeneas  Sylvius:  Extract  from  De  Liberorum  Educatione       .     55 

8.  Platiiva  :  Extracts  from  the  Lives  of  the  Popes       .         .         -63 

9.  Vespasiano  da  Bisticci  :  Extracts  from  the  Vite      .         .         -70 
1  o.  Lorenzo  de'  Medici  :  Letter  to  his  son  Giovanni    .         .         .80 

11.  Nicolo  Machiavelli  :  Extracts  from  the  Prince     .  .  .84 

12.  Baldassare  Castiglione  :  Extracts  from  the  Courtier  .  -91 

13.  Matteo  Bandello  :  Novels  VI,  XIII  and  XLI        .  .  102 

14.  Benvenuto  Cellini  :  Extracts  from  the  Autobiography  .  .110 


PART  II.     THE  GERMAN  RENAISSANCE. 

1.  The  Renaissance  in  Germany         ..... 

2.  Rudolf  Agricola  :  Letter  to  Barbirianus 

3.  Jacob  Wimpheling  :   Extracts  from  Isidoneus,  Adolescentia  and 

Agatharchia      ........ 

4.  Johann  Reuchlin  :  Letter  to  Ammerbach 

5.  Sebastian  Brant  :  Extracts  from  the  Narrenschiff '. 

6.  Maximilian  I :  Extracts  from  the  Weisskunig 

7.  Desiderius  Erasmus  :  Two  Colloquies    .... 

8.  Ulrich  von  Hutten  :  Extract  from  Inspicientes     . 

9.  Letters  of  Obscure  Men  (Seven  letters) 

10.  Johannes  Butzbach  :  Extracts  from  Hodoporicon  . 

11.  Thomas  Platter  :  Extract  from  the  Autobiography 


1 
12 

23 
35 
39 
42 

47 
62 

67 
80 

99 


DANTE   ALIGHIERI. 


DANTE  ALIGHIERI. 


Born  at  Florence,  1265.  Took  part  in  the  political  struggles  of  the 
time,  and  fought  at  the  battle  of  Campaldino,  1289.  Held  office  of 
prior  in  1300,  and  as  a  result  of  factional  strife  was  banished  from 
Florence  two  years  later.  Some  portion  of  the  period  of  his  exile  he 
passed  at  the  court  of  the  lords  of  Verona.  In  1310  attached  himself 
to  the  cause  of  the  Emperor,  Henry  VII.  Died  at  Ravenna  in  1321. 
The  principal  works  of  Dante  are  the  Vita  Nuova,  the  Convito,  De 
Monorchia,  a  treatise  ZV  Vulgari  Eloquio,  and  the  Divina  Commedia, 

EXTRACT  FROM   DE  MONARCHIA.1 

Dante  refutes  arguments  which  strive  to  prove  that  the  Imperial 
power  is  subject  to  the  Papal  poiver.     Book  III.,  Sec.  iv. 

Those  men  to  whom  all  our  subsequent  reasoning  is  ad- 
dressed, when  they  assert  that  the  authority  of  the  Empire 
depends  on  the  authority  of  the  Church,  as  the  inferior  work- 
man depends  upon  the  architect,  are  moved  to  take  this  view 
by  many  arguments,  some  of  which  they  draw  from  Holy 
Scripture,  and  some  also  from  the  acts  of  the  Supreme  Pon- 
tiff and  of  the  Emperor  himself.  Moreover,  they  strive  to 
have  some  proof  of  reason. 

In  the  first  place  they  say  that  God,  according  to  the  book 
of  Genesis,  made  two  great  lights,  the  greater  light  to  rule 
the  day,  and  the  lesser  light  to  rule  the  night;  this  they 
understand  to  be  an  allegory,  for  that  the  lights  are  the  two 
powers,  the  spiritual  and  the  temporal.  And  then  they 
maintain  that  as  the  moon,  which  is  the  lesser  light,  only 
has  light  so  far  as  she  receives  it  from  the  sun,  so  the  tem- 
poral power  only  has  authority  as  it  receives  authority  from 
the  spiritual  power. 

*  %.  ^c  :+:  %  ^c  4; 

Having  thus  first  noted  these  things,  I  will  proceed,  as  I 
said  above,  to  destroy  the  argument  of  those  who  say  that 
the  two  great  lights  are  typical  of  the  two  great  powers  on 
earth;  for  on  this  type  rests  the  whole  strength  of  their  ar- 
gument. It  can  be  shown  in  two  ways  that  this  interpreta- 
tion cannot  be  upheld.     First,  seeing  that  these  two  kinds 

'Translated  by  F.  C.  Church,  in  Dante,  an  Essay,  by  R.  W.  Church, 
M.  A.,  D.  C.  Iv.,  London,  1878. 


2  SOURCE-BOOK   OP  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

of  power  are,  in  a  sense,  accidents  of  men,  God  would  thus 
appear  to  have  used  a  perverted  order,  by  producing  the  ac- 
cidents before  the  essence  to  which  they  belong  existed;  and 
it  is  ridiculous  to  say  this  of  God.  For  the  two  lights  were 
created  on  the  fourth  day,  while  man  was  not  created  till  the 
sixth  day,  as  is  evident  in  the  text  of  Scripture. 

Secondly,  seeing  that  these  two  kinds  of  rule  are  to  guide 
men  to  certain  ends,  as  we  shall  see,  it  follows  that  if  man  had 
remained  in  the  state  of  innocence  in  which  God  created  him, 
he  would  not  have  needed  such  means  of  guidance.  These 
kinds  of  rule,  then,  are  remedies  against  the  weakness  of 
sin.  Since,  then,  man  was  not  a  sinner  on  the  fourth  day, 
for  he  did  not  then  even  exist,  it  would  have  been  idle  to 
make  remedies  for  his  sin,  and  this  would  be  contrary  to  the 
goodness  of  God.  For  he  would  be  a  sorry  physician  who 
would  make  a  plaster  for  an  abscess  which  was  to  be,  before 
the  man  was  born.  It  cannot,  therefore,  be  said  that  God 
made  these  two  kinds  of  rule  on  the  fourth  day,  and  there- 
fore the  meaning  of  Moses  cannot  have  been  what  these  men 
pretend. 

We  may  also  be  more  tolerant,  and  overthrow  this  false- 
hood by  drawing  a  distinction.  This  way  of  distinction  is  a 
gentler  way  of  treating  an  adversary,  for  so  his  arguments 
are  not  made  to  appear  consciously  false,  as  is  the  case  when 
we  utterly  overthrow  him.  I  say  then  that,  although  the 
moon  has  not  light  of  its  own  abundantly,  unless  it  receives 
it  from  the  sun,  yet  it  does  not  therefore  follow  that  the 
moon  is  from  the  sun.  Therefore  be  it  known  that  the  being, 
and  the  power,  and  the  working  of  the  moon  are  all  different 
things.  For  its  being,  the  moon  in  no  way  depends  on  the 
sun,  nor  for  its  power,  nor  for  its  working,  considered  in 
itself.  Its  motion  comes  from  its  proper  mover,  its  influence 
is  from  its  own  rays.  For  it  has  a  certain  light  of  its  own, 
which  is  manifest  at  the  time  of  an  eclipse;  though  for  its 
better  and  more  powerful  working  it  receives  from  the  sun 
an  abundant  light,  which  enables  it  to  work  more  power- 
fully. 


DANTE   ALIGHIERI.  3 

X.  Certain  persons  say  further  that  the  Emperor  Constan- 
tine,  having  been  cleansed  from  leprosy  by  the  intercession 
of  Sylvester,  then  the  Supreme  Pontiff,  gave  unto  the  church 
the  seat  of  Empire,  which  was  Rome,  together  with  many 
other  dignities  belonging  to  the  Empire.  Hence  they  argue 
that  no  man  can  take  unto  himself  these  dignities  unless  he 
receive  them  from  the  Church,  whose  they  are  said  to  be. 
From  this  it  would  rightly  follow  that  one  authority  de- 
pends on  the  other,  as  they  maintain. 

The  arguments  which  seem  to  have  their  roots  in  the 
Divine  words,  have  been  stated  and  disproved.  It  remains 
to  state  and  disprove  those  which  are  grounded  on  Roman 
history  and  in  the  reason  of  mankind.  The  first  of  these  is 
the  one  which  we  have  mentioned,  in  which  the  Syllogism 
runs  as  follows:  No  one  has  a  right  to  those  things  which 
belong  to  the  Church,  unless  he  has  them  from  the  Church; 
and  this  we  grant.  The  government  of  Rome  belongs  to 
to  the  Church;  therefore,  no  one  has  a  right  to  it,  unless  it 
be  given  him  by  the  Church.  The  minor  premiss  is  proved 
by  the  facts  concerning  Constantine,  which  we  have  touched 
upon. 

This  minor  premiss  then  will  I  destroy;  and  as  for  their 
proof,  I  say  that  it  proves  nothing.  For  the  dignity  of  the 
Empire  was  what  Constantine  could  not  alienate,  nor  the 
Church  receive.  And,  when  they  insist,  I  prove  my  words 
as  follows:  No  man,  on  the  strength  of  the  office  which  is 
committed  to  him,  may  do  aught  that  is  contrary  to  that 
office;  for  so  one  and  the  same  man,  viewed  as  one  man, 
would  be  contrary  to  himself,  which  is  impossible.  But  to 
divide  the  Empire  is  contrary  to  the  office  committed  to  the 
Emperor;  for  his  office  is  to  hold  mankind  in  all  things  sub- 
ject to  one  will;  as  may  be  easily  seen  from  the  first  book  of 
this  treatise.  Therefore,  it  is  not  permitted  to  the  Emperor 
to  divide  the  Empire.  If,  therefore,  as  they  say,  any  dig- 
nities had  been  alienated  by  Constantine,  and  had  passed  to 
the  Church,  the  "coat  without  seam,"  which,  even  they, 
who  pierced  Christ,  the  true  God,  with  a  spear,  dared  not 
rend,  would  have  been  rent. 


4  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

LETTER  TO  THE  PRINCES  AND  PEOPLES  OF  ITALY.1 

For  all  and  for  each  of  the  kings  of  Italy,  for  the  senators  of  the  fair 
city,  and  also  for  the  dukes,  marquises  and  counts,  and  for  the  peoples, 
the  humble  Italian  Dante  Alighieri,  a  Florentine,  and  undeservedly 
an  exile,  prays  for  peace. 

i.  Behold,  now  is  the  acceptable  time,  in  which  the  signs 
of  consolation  and  peace  arise.  For  a  new  day  grows  bright, 
revealing  a  dawn  that  already  lessens  the  gloom  of  long  ca- 
lamity. Already  the  eastern  breezes  grow  stronger;  the  lips 
of  heaven  grow  ruddy  and  strengthen  the  auguries  of  the 
people  with  caressing  tranquillity.  And  even  we,  who  for 
so  long  have  passed  our  nights  in  the  desert,  shall  behold 
the  gladness  for  which  we  have  longed,  for  Titan  shall  arise 
pacific,  and  justice,  which  had  languished  without  sunshine 
at  the  end  of  the  winter's  solstice,  shall  grow  green  once 
more,  when  first  he  darts  forth  his  splendor.  All  who  hun- 
ger and  thirst  will  be  satisfied  in  the  light  of  his  rays,  and 
they  who  delight  in  iniquity  shall  be  put  to  confusion  at  the 
sight  of  his  radiance.  For  the  strong  I^ion  of  the  Tribe  of 
Judah  has  hearkened  with  compassionate  ears,  and  pitying 
the  lament  of  universal  captivity,  has  raised  up  another 
Moses,  who  will  liberate  his  people  from  the  oppression  of 
the  Egyptians,  and  will  lead  them  to  a  land  flowing  with 
milk  and  honey. 

2.  Henceforth  let  thy  heart  be  joyful,  O  Italy  !  who  de- 
serveth  to  be  pitied  even  by  the  Saracens,  but  who  straight- 
way shalt  be  looked  on  with  envy  throughout  the  world, 
because  thy  bridegroom,  the  solace  of  the  earth  and  the 
glory  of  thy  people,  the  most  clement  Henry,  Divine,  Au- 
gustus and  Caesar,  hastens  to  the  nuptials.  Dry  thy  tears 
and  blot  out  the  traces  of  sorrow,  O  most  beauteous,  for  he 
is  at  hand  who  will  free  thee  from  the  bonds  of  the  impious; 
who,  smiting  the  wicked,  will  destroy  them  at  the  edge  of 
the  sword,  and  will  hire  his  vineyard  to  other  husbandmen, 
who,  at  the  time  of  harvest,  will  yield  the  fruit  of  justice. 

1  A  Translation  of  Daute's  Eleven  Letters  by  Charles  Sterrett  Latham. 
Riverside  Press,  1892. 


DANTE   AUGHIERI.  5 

3.  But  will  he  not  be  merciful  to  any?  Yea;  as  he  is 
Caesar,  and  his  majesty  flows  from  the  font  of  pity,  he  will 
spare  all  imploring  mercy.  His  judgments  abominate  all 
severity,  and  always  in  punishing  set  a  bound  on  this  side 
of  moderation,  and  in  rewarding  on  the  other  side.  Will 
he,  therefore,  applaud  the  desperate  deeds  of  evil  men,  and 
drink  to  the  undertakings  of  the  presumptuous?  Nay;  be- 
cause he  is  Augustus.  And  if  Augustus,  will  he  not  avenge 
the  wickedness  of  the  backsliders,  and  pursue  them  even  into 
Thessaly, — the  Thessaly,  I  say,  of  the  last  destruction. 

4.  Lay  aside,  O  Lombard  race,  thy  accumulated  barbarity; 
and  if  any  vestige  of  the  seed  of  the  Trojans  and  Latins  still 
exists,  give  it  place,  lest  when  the  sublime  eagle,  descending 
like  a  thunderbolt,  falls  from  on  high,  he  may  see  his  eaglets 
cast  out,  and  the  nest  of  his  own  young  occupied  by  ravens. 
Up,  O  race  of  Scandinavia!  See  that  thou  mayest  desire, 
as  eagerly  as  in  thee  lies,  the  presence  of  him  whose  coming 
thou  justly  dreadest.  Let  not  cupidity,  deceiving  thee  after 
the  manner  of  the  Sirens,  seduce  thee,  deadening  the  vigi- 
lance of  reason  by  I  know  not  what  sweetness.  ' '  Come  be- 
fore his  presence  with  a  confession  of  submission,  and  rejoice 
on  the  psaltery  with  a  song  of  repentance,"  considering  that 
he  who  resists  authority,  resists  the  ordinance  of  God,  and 
he  who  withstands  the  divine  ordinance,  opposes  a  will  co- 
equal with  omnipotence;  and  it  is  hard  to  kick  against  the 
pricks. 

5.  Ye  likewise,  who  mourn  oppressed,  lift  up  your  hearts, 
for  your  salvation  is  at  hand.  Take  up  the  harrow  of  a  good 
humility,  and  level  the  clods  of  parched  animosity,  lest  per- 
chance the  heavenly  rain,  coming  before  the  sowing  of  your 
seed,  fall  from  on  high  in  vain;  or  lest  the  grace  of  God 
shrink  from  you  as  the  dew  does  daily  from  the  stone.  But 
do  ye  conceive  like  a  fertile  valley  and  put  forth  green — the 
green,  I  say,  fruitful  of  true  peace;  and,  in  very  truth,  in 
this  verdure,  making  spring  in  your  land,  will  the  new  hus- 
bandman of  the  Romans  yoke  the  oxen  of  his  counsel  more 
kindly  and  confidently  to  his  plough.  Pardon,  pardon,  now 
and  henceforth,  O  best  beloved!  who  have  suffered  injustice 


6  SOURCE-BOOK    OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

along  with  me,  that  the  Hectorian  shepherd  may  recognize 
you  as  the  sheep  of  his  fold:  who,  although  he  holds  the  rod 
of  temporal  correction  in  his  hand  by  divine  concession, 
nevertheless,  that  he  may  be  redolent  of  the  goodness  of  Him 
from  whom  as  from  one  point  the  power  of  Peter  and  of 
Caesar  divides,  gladly  corrects  his  family,  but  more  willingly, 
in  very  truth,  has  compassion  on  it. 

6.  Therefore,  if  the  old  transgression,  which  many  a  time 
like  the  serpent  is  coiled  and  turned  on  itself,  is  no  hindrance, 
henceforth  can  ye  all  perceive  that  peace  is  prepared  for  one 
and  all,  and  already  can  3Te  taste  the  first  fruits  of  the  hoped- 
for  gladness.  Then  be  ye  all  vigilant,  and  rise  up  to  meet 
your  king,  O  inhabitants  of  Italy!  reserving  yourselves  not 
only  for  his  empire  but,  as  free  people,  for  his  guidance. 

7.  I  exhort  you  not  only  to  rise  up  to  meet  him,  but  also 
to  do  reverence  to  his  presence.  Ye  who  drink  of  his 
streams  and  navigate  his  seas;  ye  who  tread  the  sands  of  the 
shores  and  the  summits  of  the  alps  that  are  his;  ye  who  re- 
joice in  any  public  thing  whatsoever,  and  possess  private 
goods  not  otherwise  than  b)^  the  bonds  of  his  law:  do  not,  as 
if  ignorant,  deceive  j^ourselves  as  though  ye  dreamt  in  your 
hearts  and  said:  "We  have  no  lord."  For  his  garden  and 
lake  is  whatever  the  heavens  encompass  round  about,  since 
"  The  sea  is  God's  and  He  made  it,  and  His  hands  formed 
the  dry  land."  Wherefore  that  God  predestined  the  Roman 
Prince  shines  forth  in  wonderful  effects;  and  that  he  after- 
wards confirmed  him  by  the  word  of  His  Word,  the  Church 
proclaims. 

8.  Surely,  if  through  those  things  which  have  been  cre- 
ated by  God  the  human  creature  sees  the  invisible  things 
with  the  ej^es  of  the  intellect,  and  if  from  the  things  better 
known  those  less  known  are  evident  to  us,  in  like  manner 
it  concerns  human  apprehension  that  from  the  motion  of  the 
heavens  we  should  know  the  Motor  and  His  will;  and  this 
predestination  will  be  seen  readily  even  by  those  who  look 
superficially.  For  if  from  the  first  spark  of  this  fire  we  turn 
back  to  things  passed,  from  what  time,  I  say,  hospitality  was 
denied  the  Argives  by  the  Phrygians;  and  if  there  is  time  to 


DANTE   AUGHIERI.  7 

survey  the  affairs  of  the  world  even  to  the  triumphs  of  Octa- 
vian,  we  shall  see  that  some  of  them  have  completely  tran- 
scended the  heights  of  human  valor,  and  that  God  has 
worked  through  men,  just  as  through  the  medium  of  the  new 
heavens.  For  we  do  not  always  act;  nay,  rather  are  we 
sometimes  the  instruments  of  God,  and  the  human  will,  in 
which  liberty  is  innate,  acts  sometimes  free  even  from  earthly 
passions,  and,  subservient  to  the  Eternal  Will,  often  serves 
it  without  knowing  it. 

9.  And  if  these  things  which  are  first  principles,  as  it  were, 
for  proving  that  which  is  sought,  are  not  sufficient,  who, 
proceeding  from  the  conclusion  inferred  through  facts  will 
not  be  compelled  to  think  as  I  do,  perceiving  that  peace  has 
embraced  the  world  completely  for  twelve  years — a  peace 
which  revealed  in  its  accomplishment  the  face  of  its  syllo- 
gizer,  the  son  of  God.  And  while  He,  made  man,  preached 
the  Gospel  on  earth  for  the  revelation  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  as 
if  he  were  dividing  two  kingdoms,  distributing  all  things  to 
himself  and  Caesar,  He  commanded  to  ' '  Render  unto  each 
the  things  that  are  his." 

10.  But  if  the  obstinate  mind  demands  further,  not  yet  as- 
senting to  the  truth,  let  him  examine  the  words  of  Christ, 
even  when  in  chains,  for  He  who  is  our  light,  when  Pilate 
opposed  His  power,  asserted  that  the  office  which  he,  as 
lieutenant  of  Caesar,  was  vaunting  of,  came  from  on  high. 
Therefore  walk  ye  not  even  as  the  Gentiles,  involved  in  dark- 
ness by  the  vanity  of  the  senses;  but  open  the  eyes  of  your 
mind,  and  see,  for  the  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth  has  ordained 
a  king  for  us.  This  is  he  whom  Peter,  the  vicar  of  God, 
admonished  us  to  honor;  whom  Clement,  now  the  successor 
of  Peter,  illuminates  with  the  light  of  the  apostolic  benedic- 
tion, in  order  that  where  the  spiritual  ray  does  not  suffice, 
the  splendor  of  the  lesser  light  may  illumine. 


SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 


FRANCESCO  PETRARCA. 

Born  at  Arezzo,  1304,  during  the  exile  of  his  family  from  Florence. 
Removed  1313  to  Avignon.  Studied  law  at  Montpellier,  and  later  at 
Bologna,  1323.  Returned  to  Avignon,  1326,  and  attached  himself  to 
the  household  of  a  member  of  the  family  of  Colonna.  Settled  at 
Vaucluse  in  1337,  and  in  1341  received  the  poet's  crown  at  Rome. 
Petrarch's  friendship  with  Boccaccio  dates  from  their  meeting  at 
Florence  in  1350.  Made  extensive  journeys  in  Central  Europe,  and 
was  a  welcome  guest  in  the  courts  of  Italian  princes.  In  1369  retired 
to  Arqua,  not  far  from  Padua,  where  he  died  in  1374.  Petrarch's  chief 
literary  works  are  Poems,  both  in  Latin  and  Italian,  and  Letters. 

EXTRACT   FROM  THE   EPISTOL-E  VARLE,  NO.  25.* 

Your  letters  are  always  more  than  welcome,  especially 
when  I  have  need  of  consolation,  a  need  that  I  often  experi- 
ence amid  the  weariness  of  life.  In  the  first  place  I  cannot 
pass  over  in  silence  a  certain  ambiguous  statement  of  yours, 
that  you  are  well  aware,  from  the  direction  my  affairs  are 
taking,  that  I  am  likely  to  make  a  permanent  stay  at  Milan. 
You  conceal  your  own  feelings  in  the  matter  by  ascribing  your 
silence  to  the  fact  that  you  have  not  the  hardihood  to  protest 
against  my  resolution.  In  this  manner,  by  saying  nothing, 
you  say  more  than  if  you  had  said  much.  Surely,  silence 
often  plays  a  great  part  among  the  artifices  of  eloquence.  I 
see  in  this  economy  of  words  your  oft-expressed  solicitude 
and  forethought,  and  not  yours  alone,  but  that  of  others. 
For  almost  all  my  friends,  except  those  who  are  here  and 
who  dread  the  idea  of  my  departure  as  a  calamity — all  my 
friends,  I  say,  prefer  that  I  should  be  elsewhere.  There 
seems  to  be  a  harmony  of  opinion  in  this  matter.  But 
whither  go  ?  Upon  this  point  exists  a  wide  divergence  of 
opinion.  Some  summon  me  to  Padua,  others  beyond  the 
Alps,  still  others  to  my  native  country.  These  appeals 
would  be  most  opportune,  if  the  affair  did  not  present  a  diffi- 
culty that  borders  upon  the  impossible.  Still  others  will  in- 
vite me  elsewhere ;  each,  according  to  his  desire,  will  offer 

*  Fracassetti,  J.  :  Epistolae  de  rebus  familiaribus  et  variae.  Flor- 
ence, 1863.     Vol.  3,  pp.  364-371. 


FRANCESCO    PETRARCA.  9 

me  this  or  that  place  of  residence.  In  all  this  I  am  less 
astonished  at  the  variety  of  their  opinions  than  at  the  unan- 
imity which  exists  in  their  sentiments  of  tenderness  and 
affection.  When  I  examine  thoughtfully  the  causes  of  this 
variety,  I  confess  the  variety  itself  pleases  me,  and  I  am 
proud  of  being  so  dear  to  my  friends,  that  their  friendship  for 
me  blunts  the  edge  and  dims  the  clearness  of  their  judgment. 
If  you  should  ask  me,  in  the  midst  of  these  opinions  of  my 
friends,  what  I  myself  think  of  the  matter,  I  can  only  reply 
that  I  long  for  a  place  where  solitude,  leisure,  repose  and 
silence  reign,  however  far  from  wealth  and  honors,  power 
and  favors.  But  I  confess,  I  know  not  where  to  find  it.  My 
own  secluded  nook,  where  I  have  hoped  not  alone  to  live, 
but  even  to  die,  has  lost  all  the  advantages  it  once  possessed, 
even  that  of  safety.  I  call  to  witness  thirty  or  more  volumes, 
which  I  left  there  recently,  thinking  that  no  place  could  be 
more  secure,  and  which,  a  little  later,  having  escaped  from 
the  hands  of  robbers  and  returned,  against  all  hope,  to  their 
master,  seem  yet  to  blanch  and  tremble  and  show  upon  their 
foreheads  the  troubled  condition  of  the  place  whence  they 
have  escaped.  Therefore  I  have  lost  all  hope  of  revisiting 
this  charming  retreat,  this  longed-for  country  spot.  Still,  if 
the  expectation  were  offered  me,  I  should  seize  it  with  both 
hands  and  hold  it  fast.  I  do  not  know  whether  I  still  possess 
a  glimmer  of  hope,  or  am  feigning  it  for  self-deception,  and 
to  feed  my  soul's  desire  with  empty  expectation.  My  con- 
versations with  my  friends,  by  day  and  night,  in  which  I 
speak  of  almost  nothing  else,  and  the  sighs  which  I  have 
mingled  in  a  recent  letter  to  the  bishop  of  the  neighborhood, 
prove  that  I  have  not  yet  wholly  turned  my  hopes  aside. 
Truly  it  is  strange,  and  I  could  not  tell  the  reason  for  it,  but 
here  is  what  I  think  :  our  labors,  even  though  announced  by 
fame,  can  be  brought  to  completion  in  that  place  alone  where 
they  have  been  undertaken,  as  though  the  place  were  destined 
by  fate  for  both  the  beginning  and  the  end.  However  much, 
moreover,  I  desire  to  determine  the  place  and  the  manner  of 
my  living,  according  as  my  fortunes  vary,  I  find  myself  con- 
firmed in  my  indecision  by  several  persons,  particularly  by 


IO  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE  ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

you  and  still  oftener  by  myself.  In  this,  believe  me,  it  is 
more  difficult  to  arrange  the  things  themselves  than  to 
quibble  over  words,  because  to  provide  for  the  future  is  not 
only  difficult,  but  uncertain  ;  so  that,  although  the  result 
may  be  fortunate,  the  choice  cannot  be  other  than  a  matter 
of  chance.  What  would  j^ou  choose  at  a  moment  when  your 
most  established  resolutions  were  baffled  by  a  turn  of  the 
wheel  of  fortune  ?  There  is  but  one  choice  that  never  fails — 
to  live,  in  whatever  spot  necessity  or  desire  has  placed  us, 
with  a  contentment  that  has  its  origin  in  ourselves  and  not 
in  our  fortunes,  knowing  well  that  our  most  extensive  plans 
will  have  only  a  brief  duration. 

But  I  proceed,  recollecting  that  we  had  much  conversation 
on  this  point  last  year,  when  we  lived  together  in  the  same 
house,  in  this  very  city  ;  and  that  after  having  examined  the 
matter  most  carefully,  in  so  far  as  our  light  permitted,  we 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  while  the  affairs  of  Italy  and  of 
Europe  remained  in  this  condition,  there  was  no  place  safer 
and  better  for  my  needs  than  Milan,  nor  any  place  that 
suited  me  so  well.  We  made  exception  only  of  the  city  of 
Padua,  whither  I  went  shortly  after,  and  whither  I  shall 
soon  return;  not  that  I  may  obliterate  or  diminish — that  I 
should  not  wish — but  that  I  may  soften  the  regret  which 
my  absence  causes  the  citizens  of  both  places.  I  know  not 
whether  you  have  changed  your  opinion  since  that  time ; 
but  for  me  I  am  convinced  that  to  exchange  the  tumult  of 
this  great  city  and  its  annoyances  for  the  annoyances  of 
another  city  would  bring  me  no  advantage,  perhaps  some 
inconvenience,  and  beyond  a  doubt,  much  fatigue.  Ah,  if 
this  tranquil  solitude,  which,  in  spite  of  all  my  seeking,  I 
never  find,  as  I  have  told  you,  should  ever  show  itself  on  any 
side,  you  will  hear,  not  that  I  have  gone,  but  that  I  have 
flown  to  it.  If  I  have  dwelt  at  such  length  upon  so  trivial  a 
thing,  it  is  because  I  wish  to  satisfy  you,  you  and  my  friends, 
in  the  matter  of  my  affairs,  of  which  this  is  the  chief.  This 
desire  has  been  awakened  in  me  bj-  the  numerous  letters  of 
my  friends.  Since  it  is  impossible  to  reply  to  each  one  of 
them,  and  the  greater  part  of  them  are  of  the  same  counsel, 


FRANCESCO   PETRARCA.  II 

I  have  conceived  the  idea  of  replying  to  them  all  at  once 
and  of  devoting  an  entire  volume  to  a  discourse  upon  the 
manner  of  my  life.  Alas !  I  comprehend  now  that  living 
is  a  serious  matter. 

In  the  following  paragraph  of  your  letter  you  jest  with 
much  elegance,  saying  that  I  have  been  wounded  by  Cicero 
without  having  deserved  it,  on  account  of  our  too  great  in- 
timacy.* "Because,"  you  say,  "those  who  are  nearest  to 
us  most  often  injure  us,  and  it  is  extremely  rare  that  an 
Indian  does  an  injury  to  a  Spaniard."  True  it  is.  It  is  on 
this  account  that  in  reading  of  the  wars  of  the  Athenians  and 
Lacedaemonians,  and  in  contemplating  the  troubles  of  our 
own  people  with  our  neighbors,  we  are  never  struck  with 
astonishment ;  still  less  so  at  the  sight  of  the  civil  wars  and 
domestic  troubles  which  habitude  has  made  of  so  little 
account,  that  concord  itself  would  more  easily  cause  sur- 
prise. But  when  we  read  that  the  King  of  Scythia  has  come 
to  blows  with  the  King  of  Egypt,  and  that  Alexander  of 
Macedonia  has  penetrated  to  the  ends  of  India,  we  experi- 
ence a  sensation  of  astonishment  which  the  reading  of  our 
histories,  filled  as  they  are  with  the  deeds  of  Roman  bravery 
in  their  distant  expeditions,  does  not  afford.  You  bring  me 
consolation,  in  representing  me  as  having  been  wounded  by 
Cicero,  to  whom  I  am  fondly  attached,  a  thing  that  would 
probably  never  happen  to  me,  either  at  the  hands  of  Hip- 
pocrates or  Albumazar. 

But  laying  aside  pleasantry,  in  order  to  acquaint  you  with 
the  truth,  this  Ciceronian  wound,  at  which  at  first  I  laughed, 
has  converted  my  mirth  into  tears.  For  almost  a  year  it  was 
daily  growing  worse,  so  that  between  weariness  and  suffer- 
ing, between  physicians  and  remedies,  I  fell  into  despair. 
Finally,  not  only  overwhelmed  with  disgust,  but  weary  of 
life,  I  resolved  to  await,  without  physicians,  the  end,  whatever 
it  might  be,  and  to  trust  myself  to  God  and  to  Nature  rather 
than  to  those  peddlers  of  ointments,  who,  in  attending  my 

*  Petrarch  had  been  slightly  injured  by  the  fall  of  a  heavy  volume  of 
Cicero's  Letters. 


12  SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE   ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE. 

case,  have  taken  the  opportunity  of  making  some  experiments 
along  the  line  of  their  profession. 

And  so  it  happened.  The  physicians  excluded,  thanks  to 
the  assistance  of  the  heavenly  Physician  ;  thanks  to  the  at- 
tentions of  a  young  man  who  waits  upon  me,  and  who,  in 
dressing  my  wound,  has  become  a  physician  at  my  expense, 
so  to  speak  ;  thanks  also  to  the  use  of  certain  remedies, 
which  I  determined  by  observation  were  most  helpful  to  me, 
and  to  that  abstinence  which  assists  Nature,  I  have  returned 
little  by  little  to  that  state  of  health  from  which  I  was  so 
far  removed.  This  is  the  whole  story.  I  might  add,  that 
although  this  life  is  a  vale  of  sorrows,  in  which  I  have  often 
met  with  strange  accidents  (not  strange  in  themselves,  but 
strange  for  me,  of  all  men  the  fondest  of  repose  and  the  most 
determined  enemy  of  such  tribulations),  yet  up  to  this  time  I 
have  never  experienced  anything  of  the  kind,  if  you  con- 
sider the  cause  of  the  trouble,  the  suffering  it  entailed  and 
the  length  of  its  duration.  My  beloved  Cicero  has  imprinted 
in  my  memory  an  indelible  mark,  an  eternal  stigma.  I 
should  have  remembered  him,  but  he  has  brought  it  about, 
both  internally  and  externally,  that  I  am  positively  unable 
ever  to  forget  him.  Once  more,  alas  !  I  have  come  to  know 
that  life  is  a  severe  affliction. 

Leaving  other  things  aside,  I  now  come  to  the  occurrence 
which  has  covered  me  with  honor  and  with  joy.  When  I 
learned  that  a  number  of  distinguished  personages,  who  cer- 
tainly were  not  the  least  of  the  princes  of  Italy,  finding  them- 
selves at  the  end  of  the  world,  by  night,  in  winter,  during  a 
tempest,  in  time  of  war,  reduced  to  extremities,  were  re- 
ceived in  my  name  within  the  walls  of  a  city  and  treated 
with  distinction,  I  was  astonished  at  first,  and  thought  it 
must  be  a  error  in  names.  Later  I  recalled  with  some  diffi- 
culty the  time  when,  in  my  youth,  I  followed  into  that 
country  him  who,  by  the  token  of  his  calm  brow,  might 
have  led  me  beyond  the  Indies.  Thirty  summers  have 
rolled  by  since  that  time,  and  ten  since  the  death  of  this 
grand  man,  unripe  in  years,  but  ripe  in  virtues.  Pursuing 
this  train  of  recollection  I  have  finallv  been   able  to  con- 


FRANCESCO    PETRARCA.  1 3 

jecture  who  it  might  be  that  after  so  long  a  time  still  re- 
tained a  memorjr  of  me,  whom  I,  it  must  be  confessed,  had 
almost  completely  forgotten.  I  addressed  to  him  by  letter, 
as  you  have  seen,  the  thanks  which  he  deserved,  for  in  no 
way  could  he  place  me  under  greater  obligation,  than  by  his 
honorable  reception  of  such  great  personages,  and  he  will  be 
not  the  less  surprised  at  my  remembrance  of  him,  if  he  does 
not  dream  that  he  has  refreshed  my  memory  with  a  recent 
deed  of  kindness.* 

You  ask  me  finally  to  lend  you  the  copy  of  Homer  that 
was  on  sale  at  Padua,  if,  as  you  suppose,  I  have  purchased 
it ;  since,  you  say,  I  have  for  a  long  time  possessed  another 
copy  ;  so  that  our  friend  Leof  may  translate  it  from  Greek 
into  Latin  for  your  benefit  and  for  the  benefit  of  our  other 
studious  compatriots.  I  saw  this  book,  but  neglected  the 
opportunity  of  acquiring  it,  because  it  seemed  inferior  to  my 
own.  It  can  easily  be  had  with  the  aid  of  the  person  to 
whom  I  owe  my  friendship  with  Leo  ;  a  letter  from  that 
source  would  be  all-powerful  in  the  matter,  and  I  will  myself 
write  him. 

If  by  chance  the  book  escape  us,  which  seems  to  me  very 
unlikely,  I  will  let  you  have  mine.  I  have  been  always  fond 
of  this  particular  translation  and  of  Greek  literature  in  gen- 
eral, and  if  fortune  had  not  frowned  upon  my  beginnings, 
in  the  sad  death  of  my  excellent  master,  I  should  be  perhaps 
to-day  something  more  than  a  Greek  still  at  his  alphabet. 
I  approve  with  all  my  heart  and  strength  your  enterprise, 
for  I  regret  and  am  indignant  that  an  ancient  translation, 
presumably  the  work  of  Cicero,  the  commencement  of  which 
Horace  inserted  in  his  Ars  Poeiica,  should  have  been  lost  to 
the  Latin  world,  together  with  many  other  works.  It  angers 
me  to  see  so  much  solicitude  for  the  bad  and  so  much  neglect 
of  the  good.  But  what  is  to  be  done  ?  We  must  be  resigned. 
If  the  zeal  of  strangers  shall  come  to  rouse  us  from  our  leth- 
argy, then  may  the  Muses  and  our  Apollo  help  it  on  !     The 

*  It  is  unknown  to  what  occasion  Petrarch  here  refers. 
fLeo  Pilatus. 


14  SOURCE-BOOK  OF  THE  ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

Chinese,  the  Arabs  and  the  Red  Sea  offer  in  my  eyes  no 
more  valuable  merchandise  (merx).  I  am  not  unaware  of 
what  I  say.  I  know  that  this  nominative  (merx)  is  not  used 
to-day  by  our  grammarians  ;  but  it  was  used  by  the  ancients, 
possibly  not  by  the  very  earliest,  whose  style  the  ignorance 
of  our  times  blushes  to  imitate  ;  but  by  those  nearest  to  us 
and  the  first  in  science  and  ability,  whom  blind  and  loqua- 
cious pride  has  not  yet  dared  to  set  aside.  In  their  writings, 
and  notably  in  Horace,  I  remember  that  the  nominative  of 
which  I  speak  is  often  found.  Let  us  put  it  again  into  use,  I 
beg  of  you,  if  we  may  ;  for  I  do  not  know  why  we  should 
not  dare  to  recall  from  unmerited  exile  this  word  banished 
from  the  Latin  country,  and  introduce  it  into  the  tongue  to 
which  we  are  devoting  all  our  time. 

I  wish  to  take  this  opportunity  of  warning  you  of  one 
thing,  lest  later  on  I  should  regret  having  passed  it  over  in 
silence.  If,  as  you  say,  the  translation  is  to  be  made  liter- 
ally in  prose,  listen  for  a  moment  to  the  opinion  of  St. 
Jerome  as  expressed  in  his  preface  to  the  book,  De  Tempori- 
bus,  by  Busebius  of  Caesarea,  which  he  translated  into  Latin. 
Here  are  the  very  words  of  this  great  man,  well  acquainted 
with  these  two  languages,  and  indeed  with  many  others,  and 
of  especial  fame  for  his  art  of  translating  :  If  any  one,  he 
says,  refuses  to  believe  that  translation  lessens  the  peculiar 
charm  of  the  original,  let  him  render  Homer  into  Latin,  word 
for  word  ;  I  will  say  further,  let  him  translate  it  i?ito  prose  in 
his  own  tongue,  and  he  will  see  a  ridiculous  array  and  the  most 
eloquent  of  poets  transformed  into  a  stavunerer.  I  tell  you  this 
for  your  own  good,  while  it  is  yet  time,  in  order  that  so  im- 
portant a  work  may  not  prove  useless.  As  for  me,  I  wish 
the  work  to  be  done,  whether  well  or  ill.  I  am  so  famished 
for  literature  that  just  as  he  who  is  ravenously  hungry  is  not 
inclined  to  quarrel  with  the  cook's  art,  so  I  await  with  a 
lively  impatience  whatever  dishes  are  to  be  set  before  my 
soul.  And  in  truth,  the  morsel  in  which  the  same  Leo, 
translating  into  Latin  prose  the  beginning  of  Homer,  has 
given  me  a  foretaste  of  the  whole  work,  although  it  confirms 
the  sentiment  of  St.  Jerome,  does  not  displease  me.     It  pos- 


GIOVANNI   BOCCACCIO.  1 5 

sesses,  in  fact,  a  secret  charm,  as  certain  viands,  which  have 
failed  to  take  a  moulded  shape,  although  they  are  lacking  in 
form,  preserve  nevertheless  their  taste  and  odor.  May  he 
continue  with  the  aid  of  Heaven,  and  may  he  give  us  Homer, 
who  has  been  lost  to  us  ! 

In  asking  of  me  the  volume  of  Plato  which  I  have  with 
me,  and  which  escaped  the  fire  at  my  trans-Alpine  country 
house,  you  give  me  proof  of  your  ardor,  and  I  shall  hold 
this  book  at  your  disposal,  whenever  the  time  shall  come. 
I  wish  to  aid  with  all  my  power  such  noble  enterprises.  But 
beware  lest  it  should  be  unbecoming  to  unite  in  one  bundle 
these  two  great  princes  of  Greece,  lest  the  weight  of  these 
two  spirits  should  overwhelm  mortal  shoulders.  Let  your 
messenger  undertake,  with  God's  aid,  one  of  the  two,  and 
first  him  who  has  written  many  centuries  before  the  other. 
Farewell. 

(Milan,  Aug.  18,  1360.) 

GIOVANNI  BOCCACCIO. 

Born  in  1313,  place  of  birth  unknown  ;  by  some  thought  to  be  Paris, 
by  others  Certaldo.  Was  apprenticed  for  six  years  to  a  merchant,  and 
for  six  years  attempted  the  study  of  canon  law.  1333  went  to  Naples 
on  mercantile  business,  attached  himself  to  the  court  of  Robert  of 
Anjou,  and  devoted  himself  to  literary  pursuits.  Neapolitan  period, 
1333-1350,  (except  1341-1344  spent  at  Florence) ;  a  period  of  romantic 
and  poetical  production :  Filocopo,  Teseide,  Ameto,  D *  amoroso. 
Visione,  Fiametta,  and  Filostrato.  1350  entered  the  diplomatic  ser- 
vice of  the  republic  ;  met  Petrarch,  1350 ;  became  interested  in  the 
discovery  and  preservation  of  classical  manuscripts.  Decameron  pub- 
lished 1353.  1363-1373,  Period  of  production  of  Latin  works  relating 
to  the  study  of  the  classics  :  De  Genealogia  Deorum  libri  XV ;  De 
Montium,  Silvarum,  Lacuiim,  et Murium  nominibus  liber:  De  Cast- 
bus  Virorum  et  Fetninarum  Illustrium  libri  IX;  and  De  Claris 
Mulieribns.  Also  other  lesser  works  and  Rime  in  the  vernacular. 
Occupied  the  chair  for  the  interpretation  of  the  Divine  Comedy  at 
Florence,  1373.     Died  at  Certaldo,  1375. 

FROM  THE  INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  DECAMERON.* 

In  the  year  then  of  our  Lord    1348,  there  happened  at 
*From  Kelly's  translation  in  the  Bohn  edition. 


1 6  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

Florence,  the  finest  city  in  all  Italy,  a  most  terrible  plague; 
which,  whether  owing  to  the  influence  of  the  planets,  or  that 
it  was  sent  from  God  as  a  just  punishment  for  our  sins,  had 
broken  out  some  years  before  in  the  Levant,  and  after  pass- 
ing from  place  to  place,  and  making  incredible  havoc  all  the 
wajr,  had  now  reached  the  west.  There,  spite  of  all  the  means 
that  art  and  human  foresight  could  suggest,  such  as  keeping 
the  city  clear  from  filth,  the  exclusion  of  all  suspected  per- 
sons, and  the  publication  of  copious  instructions  for  the  pre- 
servation of  health;  and  notwithstanding  manifold  humble 
supplications  offered  to  God  in  processions  and  otherwise;  it 
began  to  show  itself  in  the  spring  of  the  aforesaid  year,  in  a 
sad  and  wonderful  manner.  Unlike  what  had  been  seen  in 
the  east,  where  bleeding  from  the  nose  is  the  fatal  prognos- 
tic, here  there  appeared  certain  tumours  in  the  groin  or  under 
the  arm-pits,  some  as  big  as  a  small  apple,  others  as  an  egg; 
and  afterwards  purple  spots  in  most  parts  of  the  body;  in 
some  cases  large  and  but  few  in  number,  in  others  smaller 
and  more  numerous,  both  sorts  the  usual  messengers  of  death. 
To  the  cure  of  this  malady,  neither  medical  knowledge  nor 
the  power  of  drugs  was  of  any  effect;  whether  because  the 
disease  was  in  its  own  nature  mortal,  or  that  the  ph37sicians 
(the  number  of  whom,  taking  quacks  and  women  pretenders 
into  the  account,  was  grown  very  great),  could  form  no  just 
idea  of  the  cause,  nor  consequently  devise  a  true  method  of 
cure;  whichever  was  the  reason,  few  escaped;  but  nearly  all 
died  the  third  day  from  the  first  appearance  of  the  symp- 
toms, some  sooner,  some  later,  without  any  fever  or  other 
accessory  symptoms.  What  gave  the  more  virulence  to  this 
plague  was  that,  by  being  communicated  from  the  sick  to 
the  hale,  it  spread  daily,  like  fire  when  it  comes  in  contact 
with  large  masses  of  combustibles.  Nor  was  it  caught  only 
by  conversing  with,  or  coming  near  the  sick,  but  even  by 
touching  their  clothes,  or  anything  that  they  had  before 
touched.  It  is  wonderful  what  I  am  going  to  mention,  and 
had  I  not  seen  it  with  my  own  e3?es,  and  were  there  not 
many  witnesses  to  attest  it  besides  myself,  I  should  never 
venture  to  relate  it,  however  worthy  it  were  of  belief.     Such, 


GIOVANNI    BOCCACCIO.  1 7 

I  say,  was  the  quality  of  the  pestilential  matter,  as  to  pass 
not  only  from  man  to  man,  but,  what  is  more  strange,  it  has 
been  often  known,  that  anything  belonging  to  the  infected, 
if  touched  by  any  other  creature,  would  certainly  infect,  and 
even  kill  that  creature  in  a  short  space  of  time.  One  in- 
stance of  the  kind  I  took  particular  notice  of:  the  rags  of  a 
poor  man,  just  dead,  had  been  thrown  into  the  street;  two 
hogs  came  up,  and  after  rooting  amongst  the  rags  and  shak- 
ing them  about  in  their  mouths,  in  less  than  an  hour  they 
both  turned  round  and  died  on  the  spot. 

These  facts,  and  others  of  the  like  sort,  occasioned  various 
fears  and  devices  amongst  those  who  survived,  all  tending  to 
the  same  uncharitable  and  cruel  end,  which  was,  to  avoid  the 
sick  and  everything  that  had  been  near  them,  expecting  by 
that  means  to  save  themselves.  And  some  holding  it  best  to 
live  temperately,  and  to  avoid  excesses  of  all  kinds,  made  par- 
ties and  shut  themselves  up  from  the  rest  of  the  world,  eating 
and  drinking  moderately  of  the  best,  and  diverting  themselves 
with  music,  and  such  other  entertainments  as  they  might 
have  within  doors,  never  listening  to  anything  from  without 
to  make  them  uneasy.  Others  maintained  free  living  to  be 
a  better  preservative,  and  would  baulk  no  passion  or  appetite 
they  wished  to  gratify,  drinking  and  revelling  incessantly 
from  tavern  to  tavern,  or  in  private  houses  (which  were  fre- 
quently found  deserted  by  the  owners,  and,  therefore,  com- 
mon to  every  one),  yet  strenuously  avoiding,  with  all  this 
brutal  indulgence,  to  come  near  the  infected.  And  such,  at 
that  time,  was  the  public  distress,  that  the  laws,  human  and 
divine,  were  no  more  regarded;  for  the  officers  to  put  them 
in  force  being  either  dead,  sick,  or  in  want  of  persons  to  as- 
sist them,  every  one  did  just  as  he  pleased.  A  third  sort  of 
people  chose  a  method  between  these  two,  not  confining 
themselves  to  rules  of  diet  like  the  former,  and  yet  avoiding 
the  intemperance  of  the  latter;  but  eating  and  drinking  what 
their  appetites  required,  they  walked  everywhere  with  odours 
and  nosegays  to  smell  to,  as  holding  it  best  to  corroborate 
the  brain,  for  the  whole  atmosphere  seemed  to  them  tainted 
with  the  stench  of  dead  bodies,  arising  partly  from  the  dis- 


1 8  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

temper  itself  and  partly  from  the  fermenting  of  medicines 
within  them.  Others,  with  less  humanity,  but  perchance, 
as  they  supposed,  with  more  security  from  danger,  decided 
that  the  only  remedy  for  the  pestilence  was  to  avoid  it;  per- 
suaded, therefore,  of  this,  and  taking  care  for  themselves 
only,  men  and  women  in  great  numbers  left  the  city,  their 
houses,  relations  and  effects,  and  fled  to  the  country,  as  if 
the  wrath  of  God  had  been  restrained  to  visit  those  only 
within  the  walls  of  the  city,  or  else  concluding  that  none 
ought  to  stay  in  a  place  thus  doomed  to  destruction. 

Thus  divided  as  they  were  in  their  views,  neither  did  all 
die,  nor  all  escape;  but  falling  sick  indifferently,  as  well 
those  of  one  as  of  another  opinion,  they  who  first  set  the 
example  by  forsaking  others  now  languished  themselves 
without  pity.  I  pass  over  the  little  regard  that  citizens 
and  relations  showed  to  each  other,  for  their  terror  was 
such  that  a  brother  even  fled  from  his  brother,  a  wife  from 
her  husband,  and,  what  is  more  uncommon,  a  parent  from 
his  own  child.  Hence,  numbers  that  fell  sick  could  have 
no  help  but  what  the  charity  of  friends,  who  were  very  few, 
or  the  avarice  of  servants  supplied;  and  even  these  wrere 
scarce  and  at  extravagant  wages,  and  so  little  used  to  the 
business  that  they  were  fit  only  to  reach  what  was  called  for, 
and  observe  when  their  employers  died,  and  this  desire  of 
getting  mone}'  often  cost  them  their  lives. 

Novel  II. 
Abraham  the  Jew,  at  the  instigation  of  Jeannot  de  Chivigni,  goes  to 
the  court  of  Rome,  and  seeing  the  wickedness  of  the  clergy  there  returns 
to  Paris,  and  becomes  a  Christian. 

At  Paris  there  lived,  as  I  have  been  told,  a  great  merchant 
and  worthy  man  called  Jeannot  de  Chivigni,  a  dealer  in  silk, 
and  an  intimate  friend  to  a  certain  rich  Jew,  whose  name  was 
Abraham,  a  merchant  also,  and  a  very  honest  man.  Jeannot, 
being  no  stranger  to  Abraham's  good  and  upright  intentions, 
was  greatly  troubled  that  the  soul  of  so  wise  and  well-mean- 
ing a  person  should  perish  through  his  unbelief.  He  began, 
therefore,  in  the  most  friendly  manner,  to  entreat  him  to  re- 


GIOVANNI    BOCCACCIO.  1 9 

nounce  the  errors  of  Judaism,  and  embrace  the  truth  of 
Christianity,  which  he  might  plainly  see  flourishing  more 
and  more,  and  as  being  the  most  wise  and  holy  institution, 
gaining  ground,  whereas  the  religion  of  the  Jews  was  dwind- 
ling to  nothing.  Abraham  answered,  that  he  esteemed  no 
religion  like  his  own;  he  was  born  in  it,  and  in  it  he  intended 
to  live  and  die;  nor  could  anything  make  him  alter  his  reso- 
lution. All  this  did  not  hinder  Jeannot  from  beginning  the 
same  arguments  over  again  in  a  few  da)'S,  and  setting  forth, 
in  as  awkward  a  manner  as  a  merchant  must  be  supposed  to 
do,  for  what  reasons  our  religion  ought  to  be  preferred:  and 
though  the  Jew  was  well  read  in  their  law,  yet,  whether  it 
was  his  regard  to  the  man,  or  that  Jeannot  had  the  spirit  of 
God  upon  his  tongue,  he  began  to  be  greatly  pleased  with 
his  arguments;  but  continued  obstinate,  nevertheless,  in  his 
own  creed,  and  would  not  suffer  himself  to  be  converted. 
Jeannot,  on  the  other  hand,  was  no  less  persevering  in  his 
earnest  solicitations,  insomuch  that  the  Jew  was  overcome 
by  them  at  last,  and  said:  "  Look  you,  Jeannot,  you  are  very 
desirous  I  should  become  a  Christian,  and  I  am  so  much  dis- 
posed to  do  as  you  would  have  me,  that  I  intend  in  the  first 
place  to  go  to  Rome,  to  see  him  whom  you  call  God's  vicar 
on  earth,  and  to  consider  his  ways  a  little,  and  those  of  his 
brother  cardinals.  If  they  appear  to  me  in  such  a  light  that 
I  may  be  able  to  comprehend  by  them,  and  by  what  you 
have  said,  that  your  religion  is  better  than  mine,  as  you 
would  persuade  me,  I  will  then  become  a  Christian;  other- 
wise I  will  continue  a  Jew  as  I  am." 

When  Jeannot  heard  this  he  was  much  troubled,  and  said 
to  himself:  "  I  have  lost  all  my  labor,  which  I  thought  well 
bestowed,  expecting  to  have  converted  this  man;  for  should 
he  go  to  Rome,  and  see  the  wickedness  of  the  clergy  there, 
so  far  from  turning  Christian,  were  he  one  already,  he  would 
certainly  again  become  a  Jew."  Then  addressing  Abraham, 
he  said:  "Nay,  my  friend,  why  should  you  be  at  the  great 
trouble  and  expense  of  such  a  journey  ?  Not  to  mention  the 
dangers,  both  by  sea  and  land,  to  which  so  rich  a  person  as 
yourself  must  be  exposed,  do  you  think  to  find  nobody  here 


20  SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE   ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE. 

that  can  baptize  you?  Or  if  you  have  doubt  and  scruples, 
where  will  you  meet  with  abler  men  than  are  here  to  clear 
them  up  for  you,  and  to  answer  such  questions  as  you  shall 
put  to  them  ?  You  may  take  it  for  granted  that  the  prelates 
yonder  are  like  those  }'ou  see  in  France,  only  so  much  the 
better  as  they  are  nearer  to  the  principal  pastor.  Then  let 
me  advise  you  to  spare  yourself  the  trouble  of  this  journey, 
until  such  time  as  you  may  want  some  pardon  or  indulgence, 
and  then  I  may  probably  bear  you  company." 

"  I  believe  it  is  as  you  say,"  replied  the  Jew,  "but  the 
long  and  the  short  of  the  matter  is,  that  I  am  fully  re- 
solved, if  you  would  have  me  do  what  you  have  so  much 
solicited,  to  go  thither,  else  I  will  in  no  wise  comply." 

Jeannot,  seeing  him  determined,  said:  "God  be  with  you!  " 
and,  supposing  that  he  would  never  be  a  Christian  after  he 
had  seen  Rome,  gave  him  over  for  lost.  The  Jew  took  horse, 
and  made  the  best  of  his  way  to  Rome,  where  he  was  most 
honorably  received  by  his  brethren,  the  Jews;  and,  without 
saying  a  word  of  what  he  was  come  about,  he  began  to  look 
narrowly  into  the  manner  of  living  of  the  pope,  the  cardinals, 
and  other  prelates,  and  of  the  whole  court;  and,  from  what 
he  himself  perceived,  being  a  person  of  keen  observation, 
and  from  what  he  gathered  from  others,  he  found  that,  from 
the  highest  to  the  lowest,  they  were  given  to  all  sorts  of 
lewdness,  without  the  least  shame  or  remorse;  so  that  the 
only  way  to  obtain  anything  considerable  was,  by  applying 
to  prostitutes  of  every  description.  He  observed,  also,  that 
they  were  generally  drunkards  and  gluttons,  and,  like  brutes, 
more  solicitous  about  their  bellies  than  am^thing  else.  In- 
quiring further,  he  found  them  all  such  lovers  of  money, 
that  they  would  not  only  buy  and  sell  man's  blood  in  gen- 
eral, but  even  the  blood  of  Christians  and  sacred  things  of 
what  kind  soever,  whether  benefices,  or  pertaining  to  the 
altar;  that  they  drove  as  great  a  trade  in  this  way  as  there 
is  in  selling  cloth  and  other  commodities  at  Paris;  that  to 
palpable  simon3r  the}7  had  given  the  plausible  name  of  pro- 
curation, and  debaucheries  they  called  supporting  the  body; 
as  if  God  had  been  totally  unacquainted  with  their  wicked 


GIOVANNI    BOCCACCIO.  21 

intentions,  and,  like  men,  was  to  be  imposed  upon  by  the 
names  of  things.  These  and  other  things,  which  I  shall 
pass  over,  gave  great  offense  to  the  Jew,  who  was  a  sober 
and  modest  person;  and  now  thinking  he  had  seen  enough, 
he  returned  home. 

As  soon  as  Jeannot  heard  of  his  arrival  he  went  to  see 
him,  thinking  of  nothing  so  little  as  of  his  conversion. 
They  received  one  another  with  a  great  deal  of  pleasure,  and 
in  a  day  or  two,  after  the  traveler  had  recovered  from  his 
fatigue,  Jeannot  began  to  inquire  of  him  what  he  thought 
of  the  hoh-  father,  the  cardinal,  and  the  rest  of  the  court? 
The  Jew  immediately  answered:  "  To  me  it  seems  as  if  God 
was  much  kinder  to  them  than  they  deserve;  for,  if  I  may 
be  allowed  to  judge,  I  must  be  bold  to  tell  you,  that  I  have 
neither  seen  sanctity,  devotion  or  anything  good  in  the 
clergy  of  Rome;  but,  on  the  contrary,  luxury,  avarice, 
gluttony,  and  worse  than  these,  if  worse  things  can  be,  are 
so  much  in  fashion  with  all  sorts  of  people,  that  I  should 
rather  esteem  the  court  of  Rome  to  be  a  forge,  if  you  allow 
the  expression,  for  diabolical  operations  than  things  divine; 
and,  for  what  I  can  perceive,  your  pastor,  and  consequently 
the  rest,  strive  with  their  whole  might  and  skill  to  over- 
throw the  Christian  religion,  and  to  drive  it  from  off  the  face 
of  the  earth,  even  where  they  ought  to  be  its  chief  succor 
and  support.  But  as  I  do  not  see  this  come  to  pass,  which 
they  so  earnestly  aim  at;  on  the  contrary,  that  your  religion 
gains  strength  and  becomes  everyday  more  glorious,  I  plainly 
perceive  that  it  is  upheld  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  as  the  most 
true  and  holy  of  all.  For  which  reason,  though  I  continued 
obstinate  to  your  exhortations,  nor  would  suffer  myself  to 
be  converted  by  them,  now  I  declare  to  you  that  I  will  no 
longer  defer  being  made  a  Christian.  L,et  us  go  then  to  the 
church,  and  do  you  take  care  that  I  be  baptized  according  to 
the  manner  of  your  holy  faith." 

Jeannot,  who  expected  a  quite  different  conclusion,  was 
the  most  overjoyed  man  that  could  be,  and  taking  his  friend 
to  our  Lady's  Church  at  Paris,  he  requested  the  priests  there 
to  baptize  him,  which  was  done  forthwith.     Jeannot  being 


22  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE. 

his  sponsor,  gave  him  the  name  of  John,  and  afterwards  took 
care  to  have  him  well  instructed  in  our  faith,  in  which  he 
made  a  speedy  proficiency,  and  became,  in  time,  a  good  and 
holy  man. 

Novel  hi. 

Melchizedeck,  a  Jew,  by  the  story  of  three  rings,  escapes  a  most  dan- 
gerous snare,  which  Saladin  had  prepared  for  him. 

This  novel  having  been  universally  applauded,  Filomena 
thus  began:  Neiphile's  story  put  me  in  mind  of  a  ticklish 
case  that  befel  a  certain  Jew;  for  as  enough  has  been  said 
concerning  God  and  the  truth  of  our  religion,  it  will  not  be 
amiss  if  we  descend  to  the  actions  of  men.  I  proceed,  there- 
fore, to  the  relation  of  a  thing,  which  may  make  you  more 
cautious  for  the  time  to  come,  in  answering  questions  that 
shall  be  put  to  you.  For  you  must  know  that  as  a  man's 
folly  often  brings  him  down  from  the  most  exalted  state  of 
life  to  the  greatest  misery,  so  shall  his  good  sense  secure 
him  in  the  midst  of  the  utmost  danger,  and  procure  him  a 
safe  and  honorable  repose.  There  are  many  instances  of 
people  being  brought  to  misery  by  their  own  folly,  but  these 
I  choose  to  omit,  as  they  happen  daily;  what  I  purpose  to 
exemplify,  in  the  following  short  novel,  is  the  great  cause 
for  comfort  to  be  found  in  the  possession  of  a  good  under- 
standing. 

Saladin  was  so  brave  and  great  a  man,  that  he  had  raised 
himself  from  an  inconsiderable  station,  to  be  Sultan  of  Baby- 
lon, and  had  gained  many  victories  over  both  Turkish  and 
Christian  princes.  This  monarch,  having  in  divers  wars, 
and  by  man}r  extraordinary  expenses,  run  through  all  his 
treasure,  some  urgent  occasion  fell  out  that  he  wanted  a  large 
sum  of  money.  Not  knowing  which  way  he  might  raise 
enough  to  answer  his  necessities,  he  at  last  called  to  mind  a 
rich  Jew  of  Alexandria,  named  Melchizedeck,  who  let  out 
money  at  interest.  Him  he  believed  to  have  wherewithal  to 
serve  him;  but  then  he  was  so  covetous,  that  he  would  never 
do  it  willingly,  and  Saladin  was  loath  to  force  him.  But  as 
necessity  has  no  law,  after  much  thinking  which  way  the 


GIOVANNI    BOCCACCIO.  23 

matter  might  best  be  effected,  he  at  last  resolved  to  use  force 
under  some  color  of  reason.  He  therefore  sent  for  the  Jew, 
received  him  in  a  most  gracious  manner,  and  making  him 
sit  down,  thus  addressed  him:  "Worthy  man,  I  hear  from 
divers  persons  that  thou  art  very  wise  and  knowing  in  re- 
ligious matters;  wherefore  I  would  gladly  know  from  thee 
which  religion  thou  judgest  to  be  the  true  one,  viz.,  the  Jew- 
ish, the  Mahometan  or  the  Christian?"  The  Jew  (truly  a 
wise  man)  found  that  Saladin  had  a  mind  to  trap  him,  and 
must  gain  his  point  should  he  exalt  any  one  of  the  three  re- 
ligions above  the  others;  after  considering,  therefore,  for  a 
little  how  best  to  avoid  the  snare,  his  ingenuity  at  last  sup- 
plied him  with  the  following  answer: 

' '  The  question  which  your  Highness  has  proposed  is  very 
curious;  and,  that  I  may  give  you  my  sentiments,  I  must 
beg  leave  to  tell  a  short  story.  I  remember  often  to  have 
heard  of  a  great  and  rich  man,  who  among  his  most  rare  and 
precious  jewels,  had  a  ring  of  exceeding  beauty  and  value. 
Being  proud  of  possessing  a  thing  of  such  worth,  and  de- 
sirous that  it  should  continue  for  ever  in  his  family,  he  de- 
clared, by  will,  that  to  whichsoever  of  his  sons  he  should 
give  this  ring,  him  he  designed  for  his  heir,  and  that  he 
should  be  respected  as  the  head  of  the  family.  That  son  to 
whom  the  ring  was  given,  made  the  same  law  with  respect 
to  his  descendants,  and  the  ring  passed  from  one  to  another 
in  long  succession,  till  it  came  to  a  person  who  had  three 
sons,  all  virtuous  and  dutiful  to  their  father,  and  all  equally 
beloved  by  him.  Now  the  young  men,  knowing  what  de- 
pended upon  the  ring,  and  ambitious  of  superiority,  began 
to  entreat  their  father,  who  was  now  grown  old,  every  one 
for  himself,  that  he  would  give  the  ring  to  him.  The  good 
man,  equally  fond  of  all,  was  at  a  loss  which  to  prefer;  and 
as  he  had  promised  all,  and  wished  to  satisfy  all,  he  privately 
got  an  artist  to  make  two  other  rings,  which  were  so  like  the 
first,  that  he  himself  scarcely  knew  the  true  one.  When  he 
found  his  end  approaching,  he  secretly  gave  one  ring  to 
each  of  his  sons;  and  they,  after  his  death,  all  claimed  the 
honor  and  estate,  each  disputing  with  his  brothers,  and  pro- 


24  SOURCK-BOOK   OP   THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

during  his  ring;  and  the  rings  were  found  so  much  alike, 
that  the  true  one  could  not  be  distinguished.  To  law  then 
they  went,  as  to  which  should  succeed,  nor  is  that  question 
yet  decided.  And  thus  it  has  happened,  my  L,ord,  with 
regard  to  the  three  laws  given  by  God  the  Father,  con- 
cerning which  you  proposed  your  question:  every  one  be- 
lieves he  is  the  true  heir  of  God,  has  his  law,  and  obeys  his 
commandments;  but  which  is  in  the  right  is  uncertain,  in 
like  manner  as  with  the  rings." 

Salad  in  perceived  that  the  Jew  had  very  cleverly  escaped 
the  net  which  was  spread  for  him;  he  therefore  resolved  to 
discover  his  necessity  to  him,  and  see  if  he  would  lend  him 
money,  telling  him  at  the  same  time  what  he  had  designed 
to  do,  had  not  that  discreet  answer  prevented  him.  The 
Jew  freely  supplied  the  monarch  with  what  he  wanted;  and 
Saladin  afterwards  paid  him  back  in  full,  made  him  large 
presents,  besides  maintaining  him  nobly  at  his  court,  and 
was  his  friend  as  long  as  he  lived. 

FRANCO  SACCHETTI. 

Born  at  Florence  about  1335.  While  a  young  man  he  became 
known  as  a  poet,  and  appears  to  have  traveled  in  the  diplomatic  ser- 
vice of  the  republic.  Exempted  from  banishment  with  other  mem- 
bers of  the  Sacchetti  family  in  1380,  the  remainder  of  his  life  was 
passed  in  official  service  in  and  about  Florence.  Died  about  the  year 
1400.     Chief  literary  work  the  Novelle. 

NOVEL  CXIV.* 

Dante  Allighieri  makes  sensible  of  their  errors  a  smith  and  an  ass- 
driver,  who  were  singing  his  book  in  garbled  form. 

That  most  excellent  vernacular  poet,  whose  fame  will 
never  grow  less,  Dante  Allighieri  the  Florentine,  was  neigh- 
bor in  Florence  to  the  family  of  the  Adimari.  It  came  to 
pass  that  a  certain  young  cavalier  of  that  family  fell  into 
difficulty,  I  know  not  on  account  of  what  offense,  and  was 
about  to  come  up  for  sentence,  in  the  due  course  of  justice, 

*Le  Novelle  di  Franco  Sacchetti.  Ed.  Eugenio  Camerini.  Milan, 
1874. 


FRANCO   SACCHETTI.  25 

before  a  certain  magistrate,  who  was,  it  seems,  upon  terms  of 
friendship  with  Dante.  He  therefore  besought  the  poet  that 
he  should  intercede  for  him  with  the  magistrate  ;  and  this 
Dante  replied  he  would  willingly  do.  So  when  the  poet  had 
dined,  he  left  home  and  set  out  upon  his  way  to  accomplish 
the  business  ;  but  just  as  he  was  passing  by  the  gate  of  San 
Piero,  a  smith,  hammering  an  iron  upon  his  anvil,  was  sing- 
ing Dante,  as  one  sings  a  ditty,  jumbling  his  verses  together, 
clipping  them  and  adding  to  them,  in  such  a  manner  that  it 
seemed  to  Dante  they  were  suffering  the  greatest  injury. 
He  said  nothing,  however,  but  approached  the  smithy,  where 
were  lying  the  various  tools  with  which  the  owner  plied  his 
trade.  Dante  seized  the  hammer  and  threw  it  into  the 
street ;  seized  the  tongs  and  threw  them  into  the  street  ; 
seized  the  balances  and  threw  them  into  the  street,  and  so  on 
with  the  remaining  irons.  The  smith,  turning  about  with 
an  angry  gesture,  cried  :  ' '  What  the  devil  are  you  doing  ? 
Are  you  mad?"  Said  Dante:  "And  you,  what  are  you 
doing  ?  "  "  Working  at  my  trade, ' '  the  smith  replied,  ' '  and 
you  are  spoiling  my  tools,  throwing  them  into  the  street." 
Said  Dante  :  "If  you  do  not  wish  that  I  should  spoil  your 
things,  do  not  spoil  mine."  "  How  am  I  injuring  you  ?  " 
said  the  smith.  Said  Dante  :  "  You  sing  my  book,  but  not 
as  I  have  made  it.  I  also  have  a  trade,  and  you  are  spoiling 
it  for  me."  The  smith,  swelling  with  rage,  knew  not  what 
to  reply,  but  gathered  together  his  scattered  tools  and  re- 
turned to  his  forge,  and  when  he  wished  again  to  sing,  he 
sang  of  Tristan  and  of  Dauncelot,  but  left  Dante  alone  ;  and 
Dante  went  his  way  to  the  magistrate.  But  when  he  came 
into  the  presence  of  that  official,  it  occurred  to  him  that  the 
cavalier  of  the  Adimari,  who  had  asked  the  favor  of  him,  was 
a  haughty  youth  with  scant  courtesy,  who,  when  he  went 
through  the  city,  especially  on  horseback,  rode  with  his  legs 
outspread,  until  they  filled  the  street,  if  it  happened  to  be 
narrow,  so  that  passers-by  were  compelled  to  brush  the  toes 
of  his  shoes  ;  and  to  Dante,  who  was  a  close  observer,  such 
behaviour  was  always  displeasing.  Thereupon  Dante  said  to 
the  magistrate :   "  You  have  before  your  court  a  certain  cav- 


26  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE. 

alier,  charged  with  a  certain  offense.  I  wish  to  speak  a  word 
for  him.  His  manners  however  are  such  that  he  deserves  a 
severe  penalty,  for  I  believe  that  to  trespass  upon  the  rights 
of  the  public  is  the  greatest  of  offenses."  Dante  did  not 
speak  to  deaf  ears,  and  the  magistrate  asked  in  what  respect 
the  young  man  has  trespassed  upon  the  rights  of  the  public. 
Dante  replied  :  "When  he  rides  through  the  city,  he  rides 
with  his  legs  wide  from  his  horse,  so  that  whoever  encounters 
him  has  to  turn  back,  and  cannot  continue  upon  his  way." 
Said  the  judge  :  "This  may  appear  to  you  a  trifle,  but  it  is 
a  greater  offence  than  the  other  of  which  he  is  accused." 
"But  see,"  said  Dante,  "I  am  his  neighbor.  I  intercede 
for  him  with  you."  And  he  returned  home,  where  he  was 
asked  by  the  cavalier  how  the  affair  stood.  "He  replied 
favorably,"  said  Dante.  Some  days  afterwards  the  cavalier 
was  summoned  to  appear  and  answer  the  charge  against 
him.  He  made  his  appearance,  and  after  he  had  been  in- 
formed of  the  nature  of  the  first  charge,  the  judge  ordered 
that  the  second  charge,  concerning  the  loose  manner  of  his 
riding,  be  read  to  him.  The  cavalier,  feeling  that  the  pen- 
alty would  be  doubled,  said  to  himself:  "  I  have  done  a  fine 
thing  indeed,  when  through  Dante's  visit  I  believed  I  should 
go  free,  and  now  I  am  to  be  doubly  fined  !  "  Having  been 
dismissed,  accused  as  he  was,  he  returned  home,  and  finding 
Dante,  said:  "You  have  indeed  done  me  a  good  turn. 
Before  you  went  to  him  the  judge  was  disposed  to  condemn 
me  for  one  offense,  and  after  your  visit  he  wished  to  con- 
demn me  for  two  ; ' '  and  much  angered  at  Dante,  he  added  : 
"If  he  condemns  me  I  am  able  to  pay,  and  when  it  is  over 
I  will  settle  with  him  who  is  the  cause  of  it."  Said  Dante  : 
"  I  have  given  you  such  a  recommendation  that  if  }rou  were 
my  own  child  I  could  not  have  given  you  a  better.  If  the 
judge  is  ill-disposed  toward  you,  I  am  not  the  cause  of  it." 
The  cavalier,  shaking  his  head,  went  home.  A  few  days 
afterward  he  was  condemned  to  pay  a  thousand  lire  for  the 
first  offense  and  another  thousand  for  the  careless  riding  ; 
and  neither  he  nor  any  of  the  house  of  Adimari  were  able  to 
forget  the  injury. 


FRANCO   SACCHETTI.  27 

And  this  was  one  of  the  chief  reasons  that  a  short  time 
after  he  was  driven  as  a  Bianco  from  Florence,  not  without 
disgrace  to  the  city,  and  died  an  exile  in  the  city  of  Ravenna. 

novel  cxv. 
Dante  Allighieri,  hearing  an  ass-driver  sing  his  book  and  say: 
"Arri,"  struck  him,  saying:  "  I dia I  not  put  that  there :"  and  left  him, 
as  the  story  relates. 

The  last  novel  moves  me  to  relate  another  concerning  the 
same  poet,  which  is  brief  and  good.  One  day  as  Dante  was 
going  along  for  his  diversion  in  a  certain  part  of  the  city, 
wearing  the  gorget  and  the  armlet,  as  the  custom  then  was, 
he  encountered  an  ass-driver,  driving  before  him  certain 
loads  of  refuse.  The  driver  was  going  behind  his  asses, 
singing  the  book  of  Dante,  and  every  now  and  then  as  he 
sang  he  touched  up  an  ass,  and  said  :  "Arri."  When  Dante 
came  up  to  him  he  gave  him  a  sharp  blow  upon  the  shoul- 
ders with  his  armlet,  saying:  "I  did  not  put  that  lArri' 
there!"  The  driver  did  not  know  who  Dante  was,  nor  what 
he  meant  to  say,  and  only  struck  his  asses  the  more  sharply, 
and  again  said  :  "Arrz."  When  he  had  gone  a  little  further 
he  turned  to  Dante,  and,  thrusting  out  his  tongue  and  put- 
ing  his  thumb  to  his  nose,  said,  "Take  that."  Dante,  who 
saw  him,  said  :  "I  would  not  give  one  of  mine  for  a  hundred 
of  yours." 

O  gentle  words,  full  of  wisdom!  How  many  there  are 
who  would  have  run  after  the  ass-driver,  crying  and  raising 
a  disturbance  ;  others  again  who  would  have  thrown  stones ; 
but  the  wise  poet  overwhelmed  the  ass-driver,  winning  praise 
from  passers-by  that  heard  him  with  those  clever  words 
which  he  hurled  after  so  vile  a  man  as  was  the  ass-driver. 

novel  cxxi. 
Master  Antonio  da  Ferrara,  having  lost  at  hazard  at  Ravenna, 
comes  to  a  church,  where  lay  the  body  of  Dante,  and  taking  the  candles 
from  before  the  crucifix  carried  them  all  and  placed  them  at  the  tomb 
of  Dante. 

Master  Antonio  da  Ferrara  was  a  most  able  man,  and  a 
poet  as  well,  and  something  of  a  courtier  ;  but  he  was  a  man 


28  SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE   ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE. 

of  vice  and  a  sinner.  Being  in  Ravenna  at  the  time  when 
Bernardino  da  Polenta  held  the  signory,  it  happened  that 
the  said  Antonio,  who  was  a  great  gamester,  having  played 
one  day  and  lost  about  all  that  he  possessed,  in  desperate 
mood  entered  the  church  of  the  Minorites,  where  stands  the 
tomb  of  the  Florentine  poet,  Dante ;  and  having  noticed  an 
antique  crucifix,  half  burned  and  black  with  smoke,  on 
account  of  the  great  quantity  of  lights  which  had  been 
placed  before  it ;  seeing,  moreover,  that  many  candles  stood 
there  lighted,  he  suddenly  ran  to  the  place,  and  seizing  all 
the  candles  and  tapers  that  were  burning  there  turned  to  the 
tomb  of  Dante  and  placed  them  before  it,  saying:  "Take 
them,  for  j-ou  are  indeed  more  worthy  of  them  than  He." 
The  people  seeing  this  were  full  of  amazement,  and  said, 
"What  does  he  mean  to  saj7?"  and  they  gazed  one  at  an- 
other. A  steward  of  the  signory,  who  happened  to  be  in 
the  church  at  that  hour  and  witnessed  what  transpired, 
when  he  had  returned  to  the  palace,  told  the  Signore  what 
he  had  seen  master  Antonio  do.  The  Signore,  like  all  the 
others  favorably  impressed  with  the  deed,  communicated  to 
the  Archbishop  of  Ravenna  what  master  Antonio  had  done, 
suggesting  that  he  should  summon  him,  and  make  a  show 
of  instituting  a  process  against  him  as  a  heretic,  on  the 
ground  of  heretical  depravity.  The  Archbishop  immedi- 
ately did  as  he  was  requested  ;  Antonio  appeared,  and  when 
the  complaint  against  him  was  read  in  order  that  he  might 
refute  it,  he  denied  nothing  but  confessed  all,  saying  to  the 
Archbishop:  "  Even  if  you  should  be  compelled  to  burn  me, 
I  should  say  nothing  else  ;  for  I  have  always  commended 
myself  to  the  crucifix,  and  it  has  never  done  me  anything 
but  ill,  and  when  I  saw  them  place  so  many  candles  before 
it,  half  burned  as  it  was  (would  it  were  wholly  so  !),  I  took 
away  a  few  lights  and  placed  them  at  the  tomb  of  Dante, 
who  seemed  to  me  to  merit  them  more  than  the  crucifix  ; 
and  if  you  do  not  believe  me,  look  at  the  writings  of  one  and 
the  other.  You  will  conclude  that  those  of  Dante  are  a 
wonder  of  nature  and  of  the  human  intellect ;  and  that  the 
gospels  are  stupid  ;    and  indeed,   if  they  contain  anything 


FRANCO   SACCHETTI.  20. 

high  and  wonderful,  it  is  not  surprising,  that  he  who  sees 
everything  and  has  everything,  should  so  express  himself. 
But  that  which  is  remarkable  is,  that  a  mere  man,  like 
Dante,  who  not  only  has  not  everything,  but  no  part  of 
everything,  has  nevertheless  seen  all  and  has  written  all. 
And,  indeed,  it  seems  to  me  that  he  is  more  worthy  of  the 
illumination  than  the  other  ;  and  henceforward  I  am  going 
to  recommend  myself  to  him  ;  as  for  the  rest  of  you,  you  per- 
form your  functions  and  look  well  to  your  comfort,  and  for 
love  of  it  you  flee  all  discomfort  and  live  like  poltroons. 
And  when  you  wish  to  understand  me  more  nearly,  I  will 
tell  you  about  it  again,  for  I  have  not  yet  played  my  last 
coin."  The  archbishop  appeared  to  be  perplexed  and  said  : 
' '  Then  you  have  played  and  3^ou  have  lost  ?  You  shall  re- 
turn another  time. ' '  Said  master  Antonio  :  "If  }tou  too  had 
lost,  you  and  all  your  kind,  all  that  you  have,  I  should  be 
very  glad  of  it.  As  for  returning  to  you,  that  will  be  my 
affair  ;  but  whether  I  return  or  not,  you  will  find  me  always 
so  disposed  or  worse."  The  archbishop  said:  "Go  hence 
with  God,  or  if  you  please  with  the  Devil,  and  unless  I  send 
for  you  we  shall  not  see  each  other  again.  At  least  go  and 
give  of  these  fruits  to  the  Signore  which  you  have  given  to 
me."  And  so  they  parted.  The  Signore,  informed  of  what 
had  taken  place  and  amused  with  the  reasoning  of  Master 
Antonio,  made  him  a  present,  that  he  might  be  able  to  go 
on  gaming  ;  and  as  for  the  candles  placed  before  Dante,  he 
took  great  pleasure  in  them  for  several  days  ;  and  then  he 
went  away  to  Ferrara,  perhaps  better  disposed  than  Master 
Antonio.  At  the  time  when  Pope  Urban  the  Fifth  died  and 
his  portrait  was  placed  in  a  noble  church  in  a  certain  great 
city,  he  saw  placed  in  front  of  it  a  lighted  wax  candle  of  two 
pounds  weight,  while  before  the  crucifix,  which  was  not 
very  large,  was  a  poor  little  penny  dip.  He  took  the  wax 
candle,  and  placing  it  in  front  of  the  crucifix,  said  :  "  It  is 
an  evil  hour  when  we  wish  to  shift  and  change  the  rulership 
of  the  skies,  as  we  change  everywhere  the  powers  of  earth." 
And  with  this  he  turned  homeward.  Such  a  fine  and  notable 
speech  was  this  as  seldom  might  happen  upon  a  like  occasion. 


30  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE    ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

NOVEL  CCXVI. 

Blaster  Alberto  delta  Magna,  arriving  at  an  inn  on  the  Po,  made 
him  a  fish  out  of  wood,  with  which  he  caught  as  many  fish  as  he 
?aished.  This  the  host  lost  after  a  time  and  went  to  seek  tnasler 
Alberto,  in  order  that  he  might  make  him  another,  but  was  unable  to 
obtain  this  favor. 

I  am  about  to  commence  some  other  novels,  and  first  of  all 
I  shall  relate  one  concerning  a  most  able  and  holy  man,  whose 
name  was  master  Alberto  della  Magna,  who,  while  passing 
through  a  certain  district  of  Lombardy,  arrived  one  evening 
at  a  village  on  the  Po,  which  is  called  the  Villa  di  Santo 
Alberto.  Entering  into  the  house  of  a  poor  inn-keeper, 
where  he  thought  to  sup  and  pass  the  night,  he  saw  many 
nets,  with  which  the  owner  was  accustomed  to  fish,  and 
furthermore  he  noted  many  female  children  :  whereupon  he 
asked  the  host  concerning  his  condition  ;  how  he  was  pros- 
pering and  if  these  were  his  daughters.  To  which  the  inn- 
keeper replied:  "  My  Father,  I  am  very  poor  and  have 
seven  daughters  ;  and  if  it  was  not  for  my  fishing  I  should 
die  of  hunger."  Then  master  Alberto  asked  him  how  great 
was  his  catch.  And  he  replied  :  "  Indeed,  I  do  not  catch  as 
many  as  I  need,  and  I  am  not  very  fortunate  in  this  busi- 
ness." Then  master  Alberto,  before  he  left  the  inn  on  the 
following  morning,  fashioned  a  fish  out  of  wood,  and  called 
the  host  to  him  and  said  :  ' '  Take  this  fish,  and  tie  it  to  your 
net  when  you  cast,  and  you  will  always  catch  a  great  quan- 
tity of  fish  with  it,  and  perhaps  there  will  be  so  many  that 
they  will  be  a  great  help  to  you  in  marrying  off  your  daugh- 
ters." The  poor  host  hearing  this,  accepted  the  gift  very 
willingly,  and  rendered  thanks  most  profusely  to  the  wise 
man  ;  and  so  he  departed  that  morning  from  the  inn,  going 
on  his  journey  to  La  Magna.  The  host,  left  in  possession 
of  the  fish,  and  desirous  to  put  its  virtues  to  the  proof,  went 
the  same  day  fishing  ;  so  great  a  multitude  of  fish  were 
drawn  to  the  bait  and  entered  into  the  nets  that  he  was 
scarcely  able  to  draw  them  from  the  water  and  carry  them 
home.  His  good  luck  continued;  he  did  so  well  that  from  a 
poor  man  he  became  rich,  to  such  a  degree  that  in  a  short 


FRANCO   SACCHETTI.  3 1 

time  he  had  married  off  all  his  daughters.  It  came  about, 
however,  that  fortune,  envious  of  such  prosperity,  brought 
it  to  pass  that  one  day,  as  he  was  drawing  his  net  with  a 
great  number  of  fish,  the  cord  that  bound  the  wooden  fish 
broke,  and  the  fish  was  swept  away  down  the  Po,  so  that  he 
was  never  able  to  recover  it,  wherefore  if  ever  there  was  one 
who  grieved  over  an  adverse  circumstance  it  was  he,  bewail- 
ing his  misfortune  with  all  his  might.  And  when  he 
sought  to  fish  without  the  fish  of  wood,  it  came  to  naught ; 
he  could  not  catch  one  out  of  a  thousand.  Wherefore 
lamenting:  "What  shall  I  do  ?  what  shall  I  say?"  he 
finally  concluded  to  set  forth,  and  never  to  rest  until  he 
arrived  at  L,a  Magna,  at  the  house  of  master  Alberto  ;  and 
to  ask  of  him  as  a  favor  to  restore  the  lost  fish.  And  so 
he  never  halted  until  he  came  where  master  Alberto  was  ; 
and  here  with  the  greatest  reverence  and  with  weeping  he 
knelt  and  related  the  benefits  he  had  received  from  him  ; 
what  an  infinite  number  of  fish  he  had  caught  and  how,  the 
cord  being  broken,  the  fish  had  gone  down  the  Po,  and  had 
been  lost.  Moreover  he  besought  his  holiness,  that  for 
their  welfare  and  out  of  pity  for  himself  and  his  daughters, 
he  should  make  him  another  fish  in  order  that  he  might  re- 
store to  him  that  favor  which  he  had  once  conferred  upon 
him.  Master  Alberto  turned  to  him  and  with  a  voice  full  of 
sorrow  said:  "My  child,  I  should  be  very  glad  if  I  were 
able  to  do  that  which  you  ask  ;  but  I  cannot,  for  I  must  let 
you  know  that  when  I  made  you  the  fish  which  I  gave  you, 
the  heavens  and  all  the  planets  were  at  that  hour  so  disposed 
as  to  confer  especial  virtue  upon  the  fish  ;  and  if  you  and  I 
presume  to  say,  that  this  point  and  this  conjunction  may  re- 
turn, when  another  might  be  made  with  equal  virtue, 
clearly  and  surely  this  cannot  happen  from  now  on  for 
thirty-six  thousand  years  :  so  that  you  can  see  if  it  be  pos- 
sible to  reproduce  what  once  I  made."  Having  listened  for 
a  while,  the  inn-keeper  commenced  to  weep  bitterly,  bewail- 
ing loudly  his  misfortune,  saying  :  "  If  I  had  known  this,  I 
should  have  bound  it  with  a  wire,  and  held  it  so  firmly  that 
I   never  should  have  lost  it."     Then    master  Alberto  an 


32  SOURCE-BOOK  OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

swered  :  "  Child,  be  still,  for  you  are  not  the  first  man  that 
has  not  known  how  to  retain  his  luck,  which  God  has  sent ; 
but  there  have  been  many  and  abler  men  than  you  who  not 
only  have  not  understood  how  to  use  the  small  opportunity 
which  you  have  used,  but  have  not  even  known  how  to 
sieze  it  when  it  has  been  put  before  them."  So  after  much 
conversation,  and  with  such  consolation,  the  poor  inn-keeper 
departed  and  returned  to  his  meagre  life,  still  gazing  out 
upon  the  Po,  if  perchance  he  might  see  his  lost  fish.  But 
he  might  look  well,  for  it  was  perhaps  already  in  the  greater 
sea,  with  many  fish  about  it,  and  with  it  neither  man  nor 
fortune.  And  thus  he  lived  what  time  pleased  God,  lament- 
ing to  himself  the  lost  fish,  so  that  it  would  have  been  much 
better  if  he  had  never  seen  it.  So  it  happens  every  day  that 
fortune  shows  herself  propitious,  only  to  see  who  has  the  wit 
to  seize  her  ;  and  often  times  he  who  best  knows  how  to  lay 
hold  upon  her,  derives  no  benefit  thereby  ;  and  many  times 
it  comes  to  pass  that  he  who  knows  not  how  to  seize  upon 
her  ever  afterward  laments  and  lives  miserable,  saying : 
"I  could  have  such  and  such  a  thing,  but  would  not." 
Others  seize  upon  her,  but  understand  how  to  hold  her  only 
a  short  time,  as  did  this  inn -keeper.  But  taking  all  our 
happenings  together,  he  who  fails  to  seize  the  opportunity 
which  time  and  fortune  offers,  when  he  bethinks  himself  he 
looks  again  and  finds  it  not,  unless  he  waits  thirty-six 
thousand  years,  as  said  our  wise  man,  which  saying  seems 
to  me  to  be  in  conformity  with  that  which  certain  philoso- 
phers have  already  said,  that  six  and  thirty  thousand  years 
from  now  the  world  will  turn  into  that  disposition  which  it 
has  at  present.  There  have  been  already  in  my  day  those 
who  have  left  their  property  so  that  their  children  were 
unable  to  sell  or  pledge  it,  wherefore  it  appears  to  me  that 
they  hold  to  this  opinion,  that  they  may  find  their  own 
when  they  return  at  the  end  of  six  and  thirty  thousand 
years. 


POGGIO    BRACCIOLINI.  33 


POGGIO  BRACCIOLINI. 


Born  at  Terranova,  in  the  territory  of  Florence,  1380.  Studied  Latin 
under  John  of  Ravenna,  and  Greek  under  Manuel  Chrysoloras.  An 
able  copyist,  he  was  received  into  the  service  of  the  Roman  curia 
about  1402.  Here  he  served  as  secretary  for  a  period  of  fifty  years. 
Poggio  acquired  fame  as  a  discoverer  of  classical  manuscripts.  In 
1452,  returned  to  Florence,  and  the  following  year  was  made  chan- 
cellor aud  historiographer  to  the  republic.  Died  here  in  1459.  Chief 
works  are  a  History  of  Florence,  the  Facetiae  and  various  moral  essays. 

EXTRACTS   FROM  THE   FACETIAE.* 

XVII.     Concerning  a  tailor  of  Visconti,  by  manner  of  comparison. 

Pope  Martin  had  charged  Antonio  Lusco  with  the  prepa- 
ration of  a  letter.  After  having  read  the  same  he  ordered 
him  to  submit  it  to  one  of  my  friends,  in  whom  he  had  the 
greatest  confidence.  This  friend,  who  was  at  the  table  and 
a  little  warmed  with  wine,  perhaps,  disapproved  of  the  letter 
completely  and  said  that  it  ought  to  be  re- written.  Here 
Antonio  said  to  Bartholomew  de'  Bardi,  who  happened  to 
be  present:  "  I  will  correct  my  letter  in  the  same  way  that 
the  tailor  widened  the  breeches  of  Gian  Galeazzo  Visconti; 
to-morrow,  before  dinner,  I  will  return  and  the  letter  will  be 
satisfactory."  Bartholomew  asked  him  what  he  meant  by 
that.  "  Gian  Galeazzo  Visconti,  father  of  the  elder  Duke  of 
Milan,"  said  Antonio,  "  was  a  man  of  high  stature,  and  ex- 
cessively corpulent.  One  day,  when  he  had  lined  his 
stomach,  as  frequently  happened,  with  an  abundance  of 
food  and  drink,  and  betaken  himself  to  bed,  he  summoned 
his  tailor  and  overwhelmed  him  with  reproaches,  charging 
him  with  having  made  his  breeches  too  narrow,  and  order- 
ing him  to  enlarge  them  in  such  a  way  that  they  would  no 
longer  inconvenience  him.  '  It  shall  be  done,'  replied 
the  tailor,  '  according  to  your  desire;  to-morrow  morning 
this  garment  wrill  fit  you  to  perfection.'  The  tailor  took 
the  breeches  and  hung  them  upon  a  peg  without  changing 
them  in  the  least.      Somebody  said  to  him:   'Why  don't 

*  Les  Faceties  de  Pogge  Traduites  en  Francais,  avec  le  Texte  Latin. 
2  v.     Paris,  1878. 


34  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE   ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE. 

you  widen  this  garment  which  the  great  belly  of  Monsignor 
filled  to  bursting?'  'To-morrow,'  said  the  tailor,  'when 
Monsignor  rises,  his  digestion  finished,  the  breeches  will  be 
quite  large  enough  for  him.'  Next  morning  he  returned 
with  the  breeches  and  Visconti,  drawing  them  on,  remarked: 
'  Now  you  see  they  fit  me  perfectly;  they  no  longer  bind  me 
anywhere.'  And  in  the  same  way  will  the  letter  please," 
Antonio  said,  "  when  once  the  wine  has  been  slept  away." 

XIX.  Exhortations  of  a  cardinal  to  the  soldiers  of  the  Pope. 
It  was  in  Piceno,  during  the  war  which  the  Cardinal  of 
Spain  waged  against  the  enemies  of  the  Pope.  The  two 
armies  found  themselves  face  to  face,  and  it  was  necessary 
that  the  partisans  of  the  Pope  should  once  for  all  conquer  or 
be  conquered.  The  Cardinal  encouraged  the  soldiers  to 
fight  with  fair  words:  he  swore  that  those  who  fell  in  the 
battle  should  sup  with  God  and  with  the  angels;  that  all 
their  sins  should  be  forgiven;  hoping  by  these  means  to 
spur  them  on  to  give  themselves  to  death.  Having  come  to 
the  end  of  his  promises,  he  was  retiring  from  the  fray,  when 
one  of  the  soldiers  said  to  him:  "How  about  you?  don't 
you  want  to  sup  with  us  too?  "  "  No,"  he  replied,  "this  is 
not  my  hour  for  supper;  I  am  not  hungry. ' ' 

XXII.  Concerning  a  priest  who,  instead  of  priestly  vestments, 
carried  capons  to  his  bishop. 

A  bishop  of  Arezzo,  Angelo  by  name,  an  acquaintance  of 
ours,  convoked  one  day  his  clergy  for  a  synod,  and  ordered 
all  who  were  clothed  with  any  dignity  whatsoever  to  set  out 
upon  the  journey  with  the  priestly  habits,  or  as  they  say  in 
Italian,  with  cappe  e  cotte.  A  certain  priest  who  did  not 
possess  these  vestments,  reflected  sadly  to  himself,  not 
knowing  how  he  might  procure  them.  His  housekeeper, 
seeing  him  thoughtful  with  downcast  head,  asked  the  reason 
of  his  grief.  He  replied  that,  according  to  the  orders  of  the 
bishop,  it  was  necessary  to  go  the  synod  with  cappe  e  cotte. 
"  But,  my  good  man,"  replied  the  housekeeper,  "you  have 
not  grasped  the  meaning  of  this  order:  Monsignor  does  not 
demand  cappe  e  cotte,  but  rather  capponi  cotti ;  that  is  what 


POGGIO    BRACCIOLINI.  35 

you  must  take  him."  The  priest  followed  the  woman's  ad- 
vice. He  carried  along  cooked  capons,  and  was  exceedingly 
well  received.  The  bishop  went  so  far  as  to  say,  with  a 
smile,  that  he  alone,  among  all  his  brethren,  had  compre- 
hended the  true  sense  of  the  command. 

XXX  VI.     Concerning  a  priest  who  gave  burial  to  a  pet  dog. 

There  was  in  Tuscany  a  wealthy  country  priest.  He  lost 
a  little  dog,  of  which  he  was  very  fond,  and  buried  him  in 
the  churchyard.  This  came  to  the  ears  of  the  bishop,  who, 
coveting  the  priest's  money,  summoned  him  for  punishment, 
as  if  he  had  committed  a  great  crime.  The  parish  priest, 
who  understood  his  bishop  quite  well,  presented  himself  be- 
fore his  superior  with  fifty  golden  ducats.  The  prelate  re- 
proached him  sternly  with  having  given  burial  to  a  dog,  and 
ordered  him  to  be  thrown  into  prison.  "  O  father,"  replied 
the  cunning  fellow,  "  if  you  only  knew  the  wisdom  of  that 
little  dog,  you  would  not  wonder  that  he  deserved  burial 
along  with  human  beings.  His  intelligence  was  more  than 
human  in  his  lifetime,  and  especially  at  the  moment  of  his 
death."  "What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  asked  the  bishop. 
"At  the  close  of  his  life,"  the  priest  continued,  "he  made 
his  will,  and,  knowing  that  you  were  needy,  he  left  you  fifty 
golden  ducats.  Here  they  are."  The  bishop  then  approved 
the  will  and  the  burial,  pocketed  the  money  and  dismissed 
the  priest. 

LV.  A  story  of  Mancini. 

Mancini,  a  peasant  of  my  village,  used  to  carry  grain  to 
Figlino  upon  a  drove  of  asses,  which  he  hired  for  the  pur- 
pose. One  time,  as  he  was  returning  from  market,  tired 
with  the  journey,  he  mounted  upon  the  best  of  the  animals. 
As  he  approached  home  he  counted  the  asses  ambling  along 
before  him,  and,  forgetting  the  one  upon  which  he  was  rid- 
ing, imagined  that  one  of  them  was  lacking.  Greatly 
agitated,  he  left  the  asses  with  his  wife,  telling  her  to  return 
them  to  their  owners,  and  returned  to  the  market,  more  than 
seven  miles  away,  without  dismounting.  On  the  way,  he 
inquired  of  every  passer-by  if  he  had  not  seen  a  stray  ass. 


36  SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE   ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE. 

Each  one  replied  that  he  had  not.  At  night  he  returned 
home  sad  and  totally  discouraged  at  having  lost  an  ass. 
Finally,  upon  his  wife's  entreaty,  he  dismounted  and  discov- 
ered that  which  he  had  sought  with  so  great  pains. 

L  VII.     Ingenious  retort  of  Dante,  the  Florentine  poet. 

Dante  Allighieri,  our  Florentine  poet,  received  for  some 
time  at  Verona  the  hospitality  of  the  elder  Cane  della  Scala, 
a  most  generous  prince.  Cane  had  ever  in  his  company  an- 
other Florentine,  a  man  without  birth,  learning  or  tact,  who 
was  good  for  nothing  but  to  laugh  and  play  the  fool.  His 
silly  jokes,  for  they  were  not  worthy  the  name  of  wit,  so 
pleased  Cane  that  he  made  him  rich  presents.  Dante,  a 
man  of  the  greatest  learning,  modest  as  he  was  wise,  re- 
garded this  person  as  a  stupid  beast,  as  he  had  reason  to. 
"  How  does  it  come  to  pass,"  said  one  day  the  Florentine  to 
Dante,  "that  you  are  poor  and  needy,  you  who  pass  for 
learned  and  wise,  while  I  am  rich,  I  who  am  stupid  and 
ignorant?"  "  When  I  shall  find,"  replied  Dante,  "a master 
like  myself,  and  whose  tastes  are  similar  to  my  own,  as  you 
have  found  one,  then  he  will  enrich  me  too."  Excellent 
and  just  reply;  for  the  great  are  ever  pleased  with  the  com- 
pany of  their  like. 

L  VIII.      Witty  reply  of  the  same  poet. 

Dante  was  one  time  at  the  table  between  the  elder  and  the 
younger  of  the  Cani  della  Scala.  In  order  to  put  the  joke 
upon  him  the  attendants  of  the  two  lords  threw  stealthily  all 
the  bones  at  the  feet  of  Dante.  On  arising  from  the  table 
the  whole  company  turned  toward  Dante,  astonished  to  see 
so  great  a  quantity  of  bones  at  his  place.  But  he,  quick  to 
take  advantage  of  the  situation,  said:  "  Surely  it  is  nothing 
to  wonder  at  if  the  Dogs  have  eaten  their  bones.  I  myself 
am  no  dog." 

LX.  Concerning  a  man  who  searched  for  his  drowned  wife  in  the 
river. 

Another  man,  whose  wife  was  drowned,  searched  for  her 
body  up  the  stream.  A  passer-by,  much  surprised,  said  to 
him  that  he  ought  to  search  for  her  down  the  current.     ' '  I 


POGGIO    BRACCIOLINI.  37 

should  never  find  her  that  way,"  replied  the  man.  "She 
was,  when  living,  so  stubborn  and  self-willed,  and  so  con- 
trary in  her  habits,  that  even  after  death  she  would  never 
have  been  willing  to  float  except  against  the  stream." 

LXXI.  Concerning  a  shepherd  who  made  an  incomplete  confession. 

A  shepherd  of  that  part  of  the  kingdom  of  Naples  where 
brigandage  is  a  profession,  came  once  to  seek  a  confessor,  to 
whom  he  might  relate  his  sins.  Kneeling  at  the  priest's 
feet  in  tears,  he  said  :  "  Pardon  me,  father,  for  I  have  sinned 
deeply."  The  priest  urged  him  to  confess  all,  but  he  hesi- 
tated for  a  long  time,  like  a  man  who  had  committed  some 
horrible  crime.  Finally,  as  the  confessor  urged  him,  he 
said  :  ' '  One  fast-day,  as  I  was  making  cheese,  some  drops 
of  milk  from  the  curd  which  I  was  pressing  flew  into  my 
mouth,  and  I  neglected  to  spit  them  out."  The  priest,  who 
knew  the  customs  of  the  neighborhood,  smiled  when  he 
heard  this  man  accuse  himself  of  having  failed  to  observe  the 
fast,  as  if  it  were  a  great  sin,  and  asked  him  if  there  were 
not  some  other  misdeeds  upon  his  conscience.  The  shep- 
herd said  there  were  not.  "Have  you  not,  you  and  your 
comrades,  robbed  or  assassinated  any  traveler,  as  so  often 
happens  in  your  neighborhood  ?  "  "  O,  as  for  that,"  replied 
the  other,  "  I  have  killed  and  robbed  more  than  one  of  them, 
I  and  my  friends ;  but  that  happens  so  often  with  us  that 
nobody  attaches  any  importance  to  it."  The  confessor  had 
difficulty  in  making  him  understand  that  these  were  two 
grave  crimes.  The  shepherd,  unable  to  believe  that  murder 
and  robbery,  which  were  habitual  occurrences  in  his  coun- 
try, could  be  productive  of  serious  results,  desired  absolution 
only  for  the  milk  which  he  had  drunk.  Sad  result  of  the 
habit  of  sin,  which  causes  the  greatest  crimes  to  be  regarded 
as  trivial  occurrences. 

LXXV.  Concerning  the  Duke  of  Anjou,  who  showed  to  Ridolfo 
a  rich  treasure. 

They  were  censuring,  in  a  group  of  learned  men,  the 
foolish  anxiety  of  those  who  give  themselves  so  many  pains 
and  so  much  labor  in  searching  for  and  in  buying  precious 


38  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

stones.  "  Ridolfo  de  Catnerino,"  said  one  of  the  company, 
"very  cleverly  chided  the  stupidity  of  the  Duke  of  Anjou, 
on  his  departure  for  the  kingdom  of  Naples.  Ridolfo  had 
come  to  see  him  in  his  camp;  the  Duke  showed  him  objects 
of  great  cost,  and  amongst  others,  pearls,  sapphires,  car- 
buncles and  other  stones  of  immense  value.  After  having 
looked  at  them,  Ridolfo  asked  what  these  stones  were  worth 
and  of  what  good  they  were.  The  Duke  replied  that  their 
cost  was  enormous,  and  that  they  produced  nothing. 
"Indeed,"  said  Ridolfo,  "I  will  show  you,  myself,  two 
stones  which  have  cost  me  ten  florins,  and  which  bring  me 
in  two  hundred  yearly."  The  Duke  was  astonished; 
Ridolfo  conducted  him  to  a  mill  which  he  had  caused  to  be 
built,  and  showed  him  a  pair  of  mill  stones:  "Behold,"  he 
said,  "those  which  surpass  in  usefulness  and  profit  all  your 
precious  stones." 

CXXIV.     Pleasatitry  at  the  expense  of  an  envoy  from  Perugia. 

At  the  time  when  the  Florentines  were  at  war  with  Pope 
Gregory,  the  people  of  Perugia,  who  had  deserted  the  party  of 
the  sovereign  pontiff  for  those  of  Florence,  sent  to  that  city 
certain  ambassadors  to  demand  aid.  One  of  them,  who  was 
a  Doctor,  began  a  long  discourse,  and  at  the  start,  as  an 
introduction  to  the  matter  in  hand,  pronounced  these  words: 
' '  Date  ?wbis  de  oleo  vestro. ' '  Another  of  the  party,  a  humor- 
ous fellow,  who  detested  such  circumlocutions,  interrupted 
him:  "What  is  this  about  oil?"  he  cried.  "You  ask  for 
oil  when  it  is  soldiers  that  we  are  in  need  of.  Have  you 
forgotten  that  we  have  come  here  to  ask  for  arms,  and  not 
oil?"  "But  these  are  the  very  words  of  the  Scripture," 
replied  the  Doctor.  ' '  A  fine  reason  for  their  use, ' '  retorted 
the  other.  ' '  We  are  the  enemies  of  the  church,  and  you 
call  the  Holy  Scriptures  to  our  aid!  "  The  humor  of  this 
man  caused  the  whole  company  to  laugh;  the  flow  of  useless 
words  which  the  Doctor  had  prepared  was  cut  short,  and 
they  came  at  once  to  the  point  of  the  negotiation. 

CXXV.     Concerning  the  Ambassadors  from  Perugia  to  Pope  Urban. 
The  people  of  Perugia  had  also  sent  three  ambassadors  to 


POGGIO    BRACCIOLINI.  39 

Pope  Urban  V.  at  Avignon.  On  their  arrival  the  pope  hap- 
pened to  be  severely  ill;  however,  in  order  not  to  keep  them 
too  long  in  suspense,  he  gave  orders  that  they  should  be  in- 
troduced, but  requesting  in  advance  that  they  should  present 
their  affairs  in  as  brief  a  manner  as  possible.  One  of  them, 
a  grave  Doctor,  during  the  journey  had  committed  to  mem- 
ory a  long  discourse  with  which  he  intended  to  address  the 
pontiff;  and,  disregarding  utterly  the  fact  that  his  Holiness 
was  sick  and  confined  to  his  bed,  he  set  himself  to  speaking 
at  such  length  that  the  Holy  Father,  at  various  intervals, 
betrayed  the  annoyance  which  he  felt.  When  the  thought- 
less individual  had  come  at  length  to  the  end  of  his  oration, 
Urban  asked  the  others,  with  his  usual  courtesy,  if  the}'  had 
anything  to  add.  One  of  the  ambassadors,  who  was  sensible 
of  the  stupidity  of  his  colleague  and  of  the  annoyance  of  the 
pope  as  well,  thereupon  said:  "Most  Holy  Father,  our 
orders  read  expressly  that  if  you  do  not  consent  at  once  to 
our  request  we  shall  not  retire  until  our  colleague  has  re- 
peated his  discourse."  This  pleasantry  caused  the  sove- 
reign pontiff  to  smile,  and  he  gave  orders  that  their  business 
should  receive  immediate  attention. 

CCXXX.     How  a  loud  preacher  was  put  to  shame. 

A  religious,  who  preached  often,  had  the  habit  of  crying 
very  loud,  as  some  fools  do.  One  of  the  women  who  were 
present  began  to  weep  at  the  sound  of  these  formidable  out- 
bursts, so  that  finally  the  religious  noticed  her.  Persuaded 
that  it  was  his  sermon  which  had  recalled  to  this  woman's 
mind  the  love  of  God,  moved  her  conscience  and  brought  her 
to  tears,  he  summoned  her  to  him  and  asked  of  her  the  cause 
of  her  groans;  whether  perchance  it  might  be  his  words  that 
had  moved  her  and  caused  her  to  melt  into  pious  tears,  as 
he  believed.  The  woman  replied  to  the  preacher  that  she 
was  profoundly  moved  and  saddened  by  his  cries,  and  by  the 
sound  of  his  voice.  "I  am  a  widow,"  she  said,  "and  my 
late  lamented  left  me  an  ass,  by  the  labor  of  which  I  have 
managed  to  subsist.  This  ass  had  the  habit  of  braying 
night  and  day,  like  your  worship;  but  it  is  dead,  and  now  I 


40  SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

am  miserable,  without  the  means  of  living.  So,  when  I 
heard  you  speak  so  loud  and  with  a  voice  that  seemed  to  me 
in  every  way  like  that  of  my  ass,  the  thought  of  the  poor 
beast  made  me  weep  in  spite  of  myself."  So  was  put  to 
shame  the  stupidity  of  this  preacher,  who  merited  rather  the 
name  of  brayer. 

DESCRIPTION  BY  POGGIO  THE   FLORENTINE  OF  THE  DEATH  AND  PUN- 
ISHMENT OF  JEROME  OF  PRAGUE.* 

Poggio  to  Leonardo  Aretino,  S.  P.  D. 

When  for  several  days  I  was  staying  at  the  baths  I  wrote 
thence  a  letter  to  our  Nicholas  which  I  suppose  you  will 
read.  When  I  returned  to  Constance,  or  a  few  days  later, 
the  case  of  Jerome  was  taken  up,  whom  they  call  a  heretic, 
and  indeed  publicly.  I  have  determined  to  review  this  case 
for  you,  both  because  of  its  importance,  and  more  particu- 
larly on  account  of  the  eloquence  and  learning  of  the  man. 
I  confess  that  I  have  never  seen  any  one,  who  in  a  matter  of 
pleading,  involving  life  or  death,  came  so  near  the  eloquence 
of  the  ancients,  whom  we  so  greatly  admire.  It  was  won- 
derful to  see  with  what  words,  with  what  eloquence,  with 
what  arguments,  with  what  countenance,  with  what  lan- 
guage and  with  what  confidence  he  replied  to  his  adver- 
saries, and  how  justly  he  put  his  case:  so  that  it  is  impossible 
not  to  regret  that  so  noble  and  prominent  a  genius  should 
be  diverted  to  the  interests  of  heresy,  if  indeed  those  things 
are  true,  which  are  charged  against  him.  For  I  have  no 
disposition  to  pass  judgment  upon  such  a  case:  I  leave  that 
to  be  determined  by  those  who  are  held  to  be  more  expert. 
Nor  do  I  intend  to  give  a  detailed  report  of  the  case  after 
the  manner  of  court  reporters;  it  would  be  too  long,  and  the 
work  of  many  days.  I  shall  touch  upon  certain  of  the  more 
important  points,  in  which  you  may  observe  the  learning  of 
the  man.  Although  many  things  had  been  brought  against 
this  Jerome,    which    seemed   to   indicate   the   existence   of 

*  Ortvin  Gratius  :  Fasciculus  Rerum,  etc.  Ed.  Brown.  London, 
1690.     Vol.  I.,  pp.  170-174. 


POGGIO    BRACCIOLINI.  41 

heresy,  and  these  were  confirmed  by  the  testimony  of  wit- 
nesses; yet  it  pleased  the  assembly  that  he  should  reply 
publicly  to  those  charges  one  by  one  which  had  been 
brought  against  him.  So  he  was  led  into  the  assembly, 
and  when  he  was  ordered  to  reply  to  these  things  he  still  re- 
fused, saying  that  he  ought  to  be  allowed  to  state  his  own 
case,  rather  than  to  reply  to  the  slanders  of  his  adversaries. 
In  the  same  way  he  asserted  that  he  ought  first  to  be  heard 
upon  his  own  behalf,  and  later  he  might  take  up  the  cal- 
umnies which  his  adversaries  had  directed  against  himself. 
But  when  this  concession  was  denied  him,  still  standing  in 
the  midst  of  the  assembly,  he  said:  "  How  great  a  wrong  is 
this,  that  while  for  three  hundred  and  forty  days  I  have 
languished  in  strictest  confinement,  in  squalor  and  filth, 
shackled  and  deprived  of  everything,  you  have  constantly 
given  audience  to  my  opponents  and  detractors,  and  yet  re- 
fuse to  hear  me  one  single  hour.  Hence  it  follows,  that 
while  the  ears  of  each  of  you  have  been  open  to  these  things, 
and  after  so  long  a  time,  the}'  have  persuaded  you  that  I  am 
a  heretic,  an  enemy  of  the  faith,  a  persecutor  of  the  clergy, 
yet  to  me  no  opportunity  is  given  for  defending  myself.  If 
you  have  prejudged  me  in  your  minds  an  evil  man,  how  will 
you  be  able  to  determine  what  I  really  am?  And  (he  said) 
you  are  men,  not  gods;  not  immortal,  but  mortal,  liable  to 
fall  into  error,  to  mistake,  to  be  deceived,  duped  and  led 
astray.  In  this  gathering  are  said  to  be  the  lights  of  the 
world,  the  wiser  ones  of  earth.  Most  of  all  it  becomes  you 
then  to  take  great  pains,  lest  anything  be  done  inconsider- 
ately or  unadvisedly  or  against  justice.  For  my  part  I  am 
a  human  being,  whose  life  is  in  the  balance;  but  I  say  these 
things  not  for  my  own  sake,  who  am  but  mortal.  It  seems 
to  me  unworthy  of  your  wisdom  to  set  against  me  so  many 
men  in  violation  of  all  justice,  and  a  thing  likely  to  be 
harmful  not  so  much  in  this  instance  as  by  example.  These 
and  many  things  beside  he  said  most  elegantly,  interrupted 
in  his  speech  with  the  noise  and  murmnrings  of  many  pres- 
ent. Then  it  was  decreed  that  he  should  reply  first  to  the 
errors  which  were  urged  against  him;  and  that  afterwards 


42  SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

an  opportunity  be  given  him  to  speak  as  he  chose.  There- 
upon the  heads  of  the  accusation  were  read  one  by  one 
from  the  pulpit  and  afterwards  substantiated  with  testi- 
mony. Then  he  was  asked  if  he  desired  to  make  objection. 
It  is  incredible  how  adroitly  he  replied,  and  with  what 
arguments  he  defended  himself.  He  advanced  nothing  un- 
worthy of  a  good  man;  as  though  he  felt  confident,  as  he 
publicly  asserted,  that  no  just  reason  could  be  found  for  his 
death  nor  even  for  his  conviction  of  the  least  offence.  He 
declared  all  the  charges  to  be  false,  invented  by  his  rivals. 
Among  other  things,  when  in  the  reading  he  was  branded 
as  a  slanderer  of  the  apostolic  see,  an  opponent  of  the 
Roman  pontiff,  an  enemy  to  the  cardinals,  a  persecutor  of 
prelates,  and  hostile  to  the  Christian  clergy,  then  rising 
with  a  voice  of  complaint  and  hands  outstretched:  "Whither 
shall  I  turn  now,  O  conscript  fathers?  Of  whom  shall  I 
seek  aid  ?  Whose  intercession  shall  I  seek  ?  whom  call  in 
my  behalf?  Not  you  !  For  these  my  persecutors  have 
turned  your  minds  from  my  welfare;  branding  me  as  the 
general  enemy  of  those  who  are  to  sit  in  judgment  upon 
me.  They  have  indeed  trusted  that  even  if  those  things 
which  they  have  invented  against  me  should  seem  trivial, 
you  would  nevertheless  crush  with  your  verdict  the  common 
enemy  and  opponent  of  all,  which  they  have  most  falsely 
made  me  out  to  be;  therefore  if  you  trust  their  words,  there 
is  no  longer  any  hope  for  my  safety."  Many  he  touched 
with  humor,  many  with  satire,  many  he  often  caused  to 
laugh  in  spite  of  the  sad  affair,  jesting  at  their  reproaches. 
When  he  was  asked  what  he  believed  concerning  the  sacra- 
ment, he  said,  "First  it  is  bread  and  afterwards  the  true 
body  of  Christ,  and  the  rest  according  to  the  faith."  Then 
a  certain  one  remarked  :  "  They  say  you  have  declared  that 
it  remains  bread  after  consecration."  He  replied,  "At  the 
baker's  it  remains  bread."  To  a  certain  other  one,  of  the 
order  of  Dominicans,  who  inveighed  bitterly  against  him, 
he  said,  ' '  Peace,  hypocrite  ! ' '  To  another  who  swore  against 
him  on  his  conscience,  he  said  :  "This  is  the  surest  way  of 
deceiving."     A   certain   distinguished   opponent   he   never 


POGGIO   BRACCIOLINI.  43 

spoke  of  except  as  a  dog  or  an  ass.  When  on  account  of  the 
number  and  weight  of  the  charges,  it  was  impossible  to 
complete  the  matter  on  this  day,  it  was  continued  to  a  third 
day  ;  when  the  heads  of  the  various  accusations  were  re- 
peated and  afterwards  confirmed  by  many  witnesses.  There- 
upon the  accused,  rising,  said  :  "  Since  you  have  listened  so 
attentively  to  my  adversaries,  it  is  right  and  proper  that  you 
should  hear  me  with  unbiased  minds."  Then  notwith- 
standing much  confusion,  permission  was  granted  him  to 
speak.  He,  in  the  beginning,  prayed  that  God  should  grant 
him  such  understanding  and  such  power  of  speaking  as 
might  be  turned  to  the  profit  and  safety  of  his  soul.  Then  : 
"I  know,  most  reverend  doctors,"  he  said,  "that  many 
very  excellent  men,  bearing  up  bravely  against  indignities, 
overwhelmed  with  false  witnesses,  have  been  condemned 
with  iniquitous  judgments."  At  first  he  took  them  back  to 
Socrates,  unjustly  condemned  by  his  fellow-citizens,  he  who, 
when  occasion  offered,  was  yet  unwilling  to  escape,  lest  he 
should  thereby  yield  to  the  fear  of  those  two  things  which 
seem  most  bitter  to  men,  imprisonment  and  death.  Then 
he  mentioned  the  captivity  of  Plato,  the  flight  of  Anaxa- 
goras,  and  the  torture  of  Zeno,  and  the  unjust  condemnation 
of  many  other  pagans  ;  the  exile  of  Rupilius,  the  unworthy 
death  of  Boetius  and  others  whom  Boetius  himself  mentions. 
Thence  he  passed  to  Hebrew  examples  ;  and  first  instanced 
Moses,  the  liberator  of  his  people  and  their  legislator,  how 
he  had  often  been  calumniated  by  his  people,  called  the  be- 
trayer and  the  despiser  of  his  race.  Joseph,  first  of  all  sold 
by  his  brethren  through  envy,  then  thrown  into  chains  upon 
suspicion  of  adultery.  Along  with  these  Isaiah,  Daniel  and 
almost  all  the  prophets  assailed  with  unjust  judgments  as 
despisers  of  God  or  seditious.  Then  he  brought  forward 
the  judgment  of  Susanna;  and  of  many  others  of  the 
greatest  sanctity,  who  nevertheless  perished  by  false  judg- 
ments. Afterward  coming  down  to  John  the  Baptist,  and 
then  to  our  Saviour,  he  proceeded  to  show  how  in  each  case 
they  were  condemned  by  false  witnesses  and  false  judges. 
Then   Stephen,  put   to  death   by    the  priesthood,  and   the 


44  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE. 

Apostles,  all  of  them,  condemned  to  death,  not  as  good 
men,  but  as  inciting  the  people  to  sedition,  as  despisers  of 
the  Gods  and  doers  of  evil  deeds.  It  was  a  crime  that  a 
priest  should  be  unjustly  condemned  by  a  priest,  and  he 
showed  that  it  was  the  greatest  crime  that  this  should  be 
done  by  a  company  of  priests,  and  proved  it  by  example,  but 
most  iniquitous  of  all,  by  a  council  of  priests ;  and  he 
showed  that  this  had  happened.  These  things  he  clearly 
set  forth,  much  to  the  interest  of  all,  and  since  the  whole 
weight  of  the  case  depended  upon  the  witnesses,  he  showed 
with  much  reason  that  no  confidence  was  to  be  placed  in 
them,  particularly  when  they  spoke,  not  out  of  conviction, 
but  from  hatred,  illwill  and  envy.  Then  he  laid  bare  the 
causes  of  their  hatred  in  such  a  way  that  he  lacked  little  of 
bringing  conviction.  They  were  of  such  a  character  that 
(except  in  a  matter  of  faith)  little  credence  would  have  been 
given  to  their  evidence.  The  minds  of  all  were  moved  and 
turned  toward  mercy  ;  for  he  added  that  he  had  come  to  Con- 
stance of  his  own  free  will,  to  clear  himself.  He  described 
his  life  and  studies,  full  of  services  and  virtues.  Such  he  said 
was  the  custom  of  the  most  learned  and  holiest  men  of  old, 
that  the3^  held  diverse  opinions  in  matters  of  faith,  not  to  the 
injury  of  the  faith,  but  to  the  discovery  of  the  truth.  In  this 
way  Augustine  and  Jerome  differed,  not  alone  that  they 
held  diverse  opinions,  but  also  contrary  ones  ;  and  this  wTith 
no  suspicion  of  heresy.  But  all  expected  that  either  he 
should  purge  himself  of  heresy,  by  retracting  the  things 
charged  against  him,  or  should  ask  pardon  for  his  errors. 
But  he  asserted  that  he  had  not  erred,  and  pointing  out  the 
falsity  of  the  charges  made  by  others,  was  unwilling  himself 
to  retract.  So  coming  down  to  praise  John  Huss,  who  had 
been  condemned  to  be  burnt,  he  called  him  a  good  man,  just 
and  holy,  unworthy  of  such  a  death,  saying  that  he  himself 
was  prepared  to  go  to  any  punishment  whatsoever,  with  brave 
and  steadfast  mind  ;  even  to  deliver  himself  to  his  enemies 
and  to  those  lying  witnesses,  who  sometime,  in  the  presence 
of  God,  whom  they  could  not  deceive,  would  be  called  to 
account  for  the  things  which  they  had  said.     Great  was  the 


POGGIO    BRACCIOUNI.  45 

grief  of  those  present ;  for  they  desired  to  see  so  worthy  a 
man  saved,  if  he  had  shown  a  reasonable  disposition.  But 
he  persevered  in  his  opinion,  and  seemed  moreover  to  seek 
death.  In  his  praise  of  John  Huss  he  said  that  Huss  had 
never  held  opinions  hostile  to  the  Church  of  God  itself,  but 
only  against  the  abuses  of  the  clergy,  against  the  pride, 
the  arrogance  and  the  pomp  of  prelates.  For  since  the 
patrimony  of  the  churches  was  first  intended  for  the 
poor,  then  for  the  hospitals,  then  for  the  building  of 
churches,  it  seemed  to  this  good  man  a  shame  that  it  should 
come  to  be  wasted  upon  harlots,  banquets,  food  for  horses 
and  dogs,  elegant  garments  and  other  things  unworthy  of 
the  religion  of  Christ.  But  here  he  displayed  the  greatest 
cleverness ;  for  when  his  speech  was  often  interrupted  with 
various  disturbances,  and  he  was  assailed  by  some  who 
carped  at  his  opinions,  he  left  no  one  of  them  unscathed,  but 
turned  trenchantly  upon  them,  forced  them  either  to  blush 
or  to  be  still.  When  murmurs  rose  he  was  silent,  occasion- 
ally rebuking  the  throng.  Then  he  proceeded  with  his  dis- 
course, beseeching  them  and  imploring  that  they  should 
suffer  him  to  speak  (when  they  were  no  longer  disposed  to 
give  him  audience).  He  never  showed  fear  of  these  out- 
cries, but  his  mind  remained  firm  and  fearless.  Indeed  his 
argument  is  worthy  of  remembrance.  For  340  days  he  lay  in 
the  bottom  of  a  foul,  dark  tower.  He  himself  complained  of 
the  harshness  of  this  treatment,  but  asserted  that  he,  as  be- 
came a  good  and  brave  man,  did  not  complain  because  he 
had  to  bear  these  indignities,  but  because  he  wondered  at 
the  inhumanity  shown  him.  In  the  dungeon  he  had  not 
only  no  facilities  for  reading,  but  not  even  for  seeing.  I 
leave  out  of  consideration  the  mental  anxiety  which  must 
have  tortured  him  daily,  all  memory  of  which  he  sought  to 
put  aside.  Yet  when  he  cited  in  testimony  of  his  opinions 
so  many  of  the  most  learned  and  wisest  of  men,  and  brought 
forward  so  many  doctors  of  the  church  in  proof  of  his  con- 
tention, that  it  would  have  been  sufficient  and  more  than 
sufficient,  if  during  all  this  time,  with  perfect  comfort  and 
quiet  he  could  have  devoted  himself  to  the  study  of  wisdom  ; 


46  SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

his  voice  was  full,  clear  and  soft ;  his  posture  oratorical  with 
a  certain  dignity,  expressing  indignation  and  moving  pity, 
which,  however,  he  neither  sought,  nor  desired  to  obtain. 
He  stood  there  fearless  and  unterrified,  not  alone  despising 
death,  but  seeking  it ;  so  that  you  would  have  said  he  was 
another  Cato.  O,  man  worthy  of  the  everlasting  memory 
of  men!  I  praise  not  that  which  he  advanced,  if  anything, 
against  the  institutions  of  the  church  ;  but  I  admire  his 
learning,  his  comprehensive  knowledge,  his  eloquence,  his 
persuasiveness  of  speech,  his  cleverness  in  reply.  But  I 
fear  that  nature  had  given  all  these  things  to  him  for  his 
destruction.  A  space  of  two  days  wTas  given  him  for  re- 
pentance. Many  of  the  most  learned  men  approached  him, 
seeking  to  move  him  from  his  way  of  thinking.  Among 
them  the  Cardinal  of  Florence  went  to  him,  in  order  to  bring 
him  into  the  right  path.  But  when  with  even  greater 
obstinacy  he  persevered  in  his  errors,  and  was  condemned 
by  the  council  for  heresy  and  burned  with  fire,  he  went  to 
his  fate  with  joyful  and  willing  countenance  ;  for  he  feared 
not  the  fire,  nor  any  kind  of  torture  or  of  death.  None  of 
the  Stoics  ever  suffered  death  with  a  mind  so  steadfast  and 
brave,  so  that  he  seemed  to  have  longed  for  it.  When  he 
came  to  the  place  of  death,  he  laid  aside  his  garments. 
Then  kneeling  down,  on  bended  knee  he  saluted  the  stake, 
to  which  he  had  been  bound.  He  was  bound  first  with  wet 
ropes,  then  with  a  chain,  naked  to  the  stake,  and  about  him 
were  placed  great  pieces  of  wood  up  to  his  breast,  with  stakes 
driven  about.  When  the  fire  was  brought  be  began  to  sing 
a  hymn,  which  the  smoke  and  fire  scarcely  interrupted.  But 
what  most  showed  his  strength  of  courage  was  this:  when 
the  executioners  wished  to  start  the  fire  behind  his  back 
(that  he  might  not  see  it),  "Come  here,"  he  said,  "and 
light  the  fire  in  front  of  me.  If  I  had  been  afraid  of  it,  I 
should  never  have  come  to  this  place  (which  it  was  possible 
to  avoid)."  In  this  manner  a  man  worthy  (except  in  respect 
of  faith),  was  burned.  I  saw  this  death,  and  watched  its 
stages,  one  by  one.  Whether  moved  by  perfidy  or  stub- 
bornness, you  would  surely  have  said  that  this  was  the  end 


LEON    BATTISTA   ALBERTI.  47 

of  a  man  schooled  in  philosophy.  I  have  chatted  to  you  so 
at  length,  because  of  idleness,  for  doing  nothing,  I  wished 
something  to  do,  and  to  tell  you  of  these  things,  so  like  the 
histories  of  the  ancients.  For  not  Mutius  himself  suffered 
his  arm  to  burn  with  such  high  courage  as  did  this  man  his 
whole  body.  Nor  did  Socrates  drink  the  poison  so  willingly 
as  he  accepted  fire.  But  enough  of  this.  Be  economical  of 
my  words,  if  I  have  been  too  long.  The  affair  really  de- 
mands a  longer  description;  but  I  do  not  wish  to  be  verbose. 
Farewell,  my  excellent  Leonardo.  Constance,  the  third 
day  before  the  Calends  of  June;  the  same  day  on  which  this 
Jerome  suffered  the  penalty  of  heresy.  Farewell,  and  love 
me. 

LEON  BATTISTA  ALBERTI. 

Place  and  time  of  birth  undetermined.  Thought  to  be  Venice,  in 
1404.  Alberti's  talents  covered  a  wide  range  of  subjects.  He  is  known 
as  a  writer  of  Latin  verse,  as  a  musician  and  as  an  architect.  Em- 
ployed by  Nicholas  V.  in  the  restoration  of  the  papal  palace  and  of 
other  Roman  buildings.  Died  at  Rome  in  1472  (1484).  Chief  works 
are  upon  Sculpture,  Painting  and  Architecture. 

extract  from  the  Trattato  del  Governo  del/a  Eamiglia* 

Children.     What  things  do  you  find  necessary  to  a  family  ? 

Agnolo.  Many  things.  Good  fortune,  which  is  not 
wholly  within  the  power  of  men. 

Children.  But  those  which  are  within  the  power  of  men, 
what  are  they  ? 

Agnolo.  They  are  :  to  possess  a  home,  where  the  family 
may  be  gathered  together  ;  to  have  wherewith  to  feed  the 
children  ;  to  be  able  to  clothe  them,  and  to  give  them  learn- 
ing and  good  manners.  For  nothing  appears  to  me  so 
necessary  to  the  family  as  to  cause  the  young  people  to  be 
studious  and  virtuous,  reverent,  and  willing  to  hearken  to 
advice;  for  when  reverence  and  obedience  are  lacking  in  the 
young,  then  vice  grows  in  them  from  day  to  day,  either  as 

*  Edited  by  Antonio  Fortunato  Stella,  Milan,  1S11.  Attributed  to 
Agnolo  Pandolfini. 


48  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

the  result  of  a  depraved  nature,  or  through  evil  conversa- 
tion and  waste  and  corrupt  habits.  Everywhere  you  see 
children  full  of  gentleness,  pure  and  diligent,  turn  out  badly 
through  the  negligence  of  him  who  has  failed  to  govern 
them  properly.  It  is  not  the  sole  duty  of  the  father  of  the 
family  to  keep  the  granary  and  cellar  of  the  house  filled,  but 
also  to  watch  and  to  observe,  to  note  what  company  his 
children  keep,  to  examine  their  habits  at  home  and  abroad, 
and  to  detect  all  evil  practices  ;  to  constrain  his  children 
with  suitable  words  rather  than  with  anger  and  contempt ; 
to  make  use  of  authority  rather  than  force,  to  refrain  from 
severity  and  harshness  when  there  is  no  need  ;  always  to 
conserve  the  welfare  and  repose  of  the  whole  household  ;  to 
rule  the  minds  of  children  and  nephews  so  that  they  shall 
not  depart  from  the  duty  and  the  rule  of  life  ;  to  provide  in 
advance  against  every  danger  which  may  threaten  the 
famity,  kindling  in  their  childish  minds  love  and  apprecia- 
tion of  things  of  worth  and  value,  rooting  up  all  vices,  put- 
ting before  them  the  good  example  of  his  own  life,  and  above 
all  restraining  the  excessive  license  of  youth.  So  ought 
children  to  be  reared  and  educated. 

Children.     We  pray  God  to  give  us  grace  so  to  do. 

Nephews.  And  how  will  you  observe  good  husbandry  in 
this  ?  We  are  a  large  family,  we  have  great  expenses,  and 
we  all  desire  to  be  like  you,  good  managers,  moderate,  hon- 
est, continent,  to  live  sumptuously  at  home  and  decently 
abroad.     How  ought  we  then  to  do? 

Agnolo.  As  best  you  may,  according  as  the  time  is  one  of 
prosperity  or  adversity.  I  am  of  the  opinion  that  in  our 
living  and  in  all  our  affairs  reason  avails  more  than  chance  ; 
and  prudence  holds  its  own  against  misfortune.  Flee  idle- 
ness, wantonness,  treachery,  indolence  and  unbridled  greed. 
Be  gentle,  self-possessed,  humane,  benevolent  and  free  from 
ignorance,  vice,  insolence  and  pride,  and  with  graciousness 
and  tact  seek  the  good  will  and  affection  of  your  fellow  citi- 
zens. Envy  ceases  where  pomp  ends  Hatred  is  extinguished 
where  distinctio?is  of  rank  cease.  Enmity  is  spent  where  no 
offence  is  given.     Strive  to  be  that  which  you  wish  to  appear. 


LEON   BATTISTA  ALBERTI.  49 

Children  and  Nephews.  These  are  the  best  of  precepts;  but 
in  order  that  we  may  completely  master  your  teaching  and 
doctrine,  suppose  the  case  that  you  are  of  our  age,  that  you 
have  wife  and  children,  (and  having  once  possessed  them 
you  are  experienced)  ;  in  what  manner  would  you  arrange 
your  affairs, — how  would  you  manage  ? 

Agnolo.  My  children  and  nephews,  if  I  were  of  your  age 
I  should  be  capable  of  many  things,  which  now  I  may  not 
undertake.  The  first  thing  would  be  to  have  a  home  well 
ordered  and  appointed,  where  I  should  be  able  to  live 
with  all  convenience  and  comfort,  without  having  to  move 
about.  Moving  about  is  too  harmful,  too  full  of  expense,  dis- 
comfort and  vexation.  Things  are  lost,  mislaid,  spoiled, 
broken,  and  through  these  evils  the  mind  is  greatly  dis- 
turbed and  disconcerted,  and  it  takes  some  time  before  you 
are  again  well  settled.  I  leave  out  of  account  the  expense 
of  rearranging  the  home.  I  should  take  care  to  occupy  a 
clean  and  wholesome  house,  well  aired  (for  the  age  of  child- 
hood has  great  reason  to  fear  bad  air  and  conditions  unfavor- 
able to  health),  and  I  should  observe  to  what  age  people  had 
lived  there,  and  whether  the  old  people  had  remained  well 
and  vigorous.  My  children,  the  well  man  always  wins  i?i  any 
case  whatsoever  ;  the  sick  ma?i  ?nay  ?iever  call  himself  rich. 

Children  and  Nephews.  And  what  seems  to  you  to  be 
requisite  to  health  ? 

Agnolo.  First  of  all,  that  which  we  are  obliged  to  use 
just  as  we  find  it,  whether  we  will  or  not.  This  is  the  air. 
Next,  the  other  things  necessary  to  our  existence:  good  and 
sound  food,  and  especially  good  wine. 

Children.     And  in  that  place  you  would  live? 

Agnolo.  Yes,  where  I  thought  it  best  for  me  to  be,  for 
me  and  mine. 

Children  and  Nephews.  What  would  you  do  if  you  wished 
to  change  your  residence  ?  Would  you  buy  a  home  or  rent 
one? 

Agnolo.  Certainly  I  should  not  rent;  for  in  time  a  man 
finds  that  he  has  bought  a  house  and  still  has  it  not.  If  I 
had  not  one  already,  I  should  buy  an  airy,  spacious  house, 


50  SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE    ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE. 

of  a  size  to  contain  my  family,  and  more,  in  order  that  I 
might  entertain  one  of  my  friends,  if  he  should  come  to  see 
me;  and  I  should  spend  upon  this  purchase  as  little  money 
as  possible. 

Children.  Would  you  take  a  house  in  an  out-of-the-way 
place,  where  houses  are  cheaper? 

Agnolo.  Do  not  say  cheaper.  Nothing  is  dear,  if  the 
money  is  spent  on  something  that  suits.  Therefore,  I 
should  seek  to  buy  a  house  that  would  suit  me;  but  I 
should  not  pay  for  it  more  than  it  was  worth,  nor  should  I 
show  myself  an  eager  purchaser.  I  should  choose  a  house 
located  in  a  good  neighborhood,  in  a  well-known  street, 
where  respectable  people  were  living,  whose  friendship  I 
might  acquire  without  harm,  so  that  my  wife  might  enjoy 
the  virtuous  companionship  of  their  ladies.  Moreover,  I 
should  inform  myself  as  to  who  had  previously  dwelt  there, 
and  I  should  insist  upon  knowing  whether  they  had  lived 
there  sound  and  well.  There  are  some  houses  in  which  it 
seems  that  no  one  can  live  happily. 

Children.  Indeed  you  speak  truly.  We  remember  to 
have  heard  of  a  beautiful  and  imposing  house.  A  certain 
one  who  lived  there  lost  everything;  another  remained  there 
alone;  another  was  driven  forth  with  much  disgrace.  All 
turned  out  badly. 

Nephews.  Surely  these  observations  of  yours  are  worth 
attention :  to  have  a  suitable  house  in  a  good  and  reputable 
neighborhood.  And  having  this,  how  would  you  arrange 
your  other  economies  ? 

Agnolo.  I  should  see  to  it  that  all  of  mine  should  live 
under  the  same  roof;  that  they  should  be  warmed  at  the 
same  fire  and  seated  at  the  same  table. 

Children.  We  can  imagine  your  pleasure  in  seeing  your- 
self in  their  midst,  father  of  all,  surrounded,  loved,  revered 
as  the  master  of  all ;  and  in  the  training  of  youth,  which  is 
for  the  aged  the  highest  pleasure,  since  virtuous  children 
afford  to  their  parents  much  aid,  honor  and  praise.  In  the 
care  of  the  father  lies  the  virtue  of  the  children.  A  careful 
and  painstaking  father  ennobles  his  family. 


LEON    BATTISTA   ALBERT!.  5 1 

Agnolo.  That  is  true  ;  but,  believe  me,  there  is  yet  a 
greater  economy  in  living  behind  a  single  threshold. 

Children.     You  say  this  ? 

Agnolo.  And  I  will  make  you  certain  of  it.  Tell  me : 
if  now  it  were  night  and  dark,  and  some  one  should  light  a 
candle  in  your  midst,  you,  I  and  these  others  would  enjoy 
the  light  sufficiently  to  read,  write  and  do  whatever  might 
be  necessary.  But  if  we  go  apart,  one  hither  and  one 
thither,  each  wishing  to  use  the  light  as  before,  do  you  be- 
lieve that  one  burning  candle  will  suffice  for  us,  as  when  we 
were  all  together  ? 

Children.  Truly  not.  Who  can  doubt  it?  For  where 
formerly  one  light  burned  for  all,  now  divided  and  gone 
asunder,  there  would  be  need  of  three. 

Agnolo.  And  now  if  it  should  be  very  cold,  and  together 
we  had  taken  coals  and  lighted  a  great  fire,  and  now  you 
wish  to  have  your  part  of  it  elsewhere,  and  these  others 
carry  their  portions  away,  will  you  be  able  to  warm  your- 
self as  well,  or  worse  ? 

Children.     Worse. 

Agnolo.  So  it  happens  with  the  family.  Many  things 
there  are  that  suffice  for  many  persons  living  together,  but 
which  are  insufficient  for  a  few  here  and  there  in  various 
places.  Quite  other  power  and  favor,  quite  other  praise  and 
reputation,  quite  other  authority  and  credit  will  he  enjoy 
who  finds  himself  surrounded  with  his  family.  He  will  be 
more  feared  and  more  esteemed  than  he  who  goes  forth  with 
few  about  him  and  without  the  company  of  his  own  people. 
Much  more  will  the  father  of  a  family  be  recognized  and 
regarded,  whom  many  of  his  people  follow,  than  he  who 
goes  alone.  The  abundance  of  persons  constitutes  the  value 
of  the  family.  Let  not  the  family  be  divided,  for  where 
formerly  it  was  large,  there  will  be  but  two  small  groups. 
The  utility  and  honor  of  the  whole  fa  mil}'  ought  to  be  preferred 
to  that  of  the  individual.  The  head  that  is  not  supported  by 
all  the  members  falls.  The  divided  family  is  not  alone 
diminished,  but  every  social  grade  and  favor  heretofore 
acquired  is  lost.     Every  one  respects  a  united  family  ;  two 


52  SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE   ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE. 

discordant  families  enjoy  no  regard.  I  wish  now  to  speak 
as  a  man  rather  practical  than  learned,  and  to  adduce 
reasons  in  support  of  my  proposition.  For  two  tables  two 
cloths  are  spread,  two  fires  are  kindled,  and  two  fires  con- 
sume two  portions  of  wood.  For  two  tables  two  servants 
are  employed,  where  for  one  table  one  servant  answers.  I 
need  not  follow  out  the  thought ;  you  can  complete  it  for 
yourselves.  In  dividing  one  family  into  two  it  is  necessary 
to  double  the  expense  ;  and  there  are  many  other  disadvan- 
tages, more  evident  in  practice  than  in  theory.  This  divid- 
ing of  the  family  has  never  pleased  me,  nor  does  it  please 
me  now  ;  this  going  and  coming  through  many  doorwaj-s. 
Nor  would  my  spirit  permit  that  you  should  live  without 
me,  under  another  roof. 

Children.     For  all  of  which  we  honor  you. 

Agnolo.  Yes,  my  children,  under  one  roof  the  family 
lives  to  best  advantage.  However,  when  the  children  are 
grown  up,  or  the  increasing  family  makes  the  dwelling  too 
small  to  hold  them  all,  let  those  who  go  away  at  least  depart 
of  their  own  pleasure. 

Children.  O,  speech  worthy  of  being  held  perpetually  in 
memory  !  "With  one  will  shall  the  family  stand  !  But  then 
when  all  are  at  home  and  desire  to  sup  and  dine? 

Agnolo.  Let  it  be  so  arranged  that  they  may  sup  and 
dine  in  due  season  and  well. 

Nephews.     Do  you  mean  by  that  to  eat  of  good  food  ? 

Agnolo.  Good,  my  children,  and  abundant.  Not  indeed 
pea-fowls,  capons,  partridges,  pheasants,  and  other  choice 
food  of  the  kind,  which  are  fit  for  invalids  or  for  banquets ; 
but  let  a  substantial  table  be  prepared,  so  that  no  one  of  us, 
accustomed  to  our  fare,  may  desire  to  dine  elsewhere,  hoping 
thereby  the  better  to  satisfy  his  hunger.  L,et  the  home  table 
be  well  supplied  with  wine  and  bread.  Let  the  wine  be 
honest,  and  the  bread  as  well,  and  with  these  pure  and 
abundant  condiments. 

Nephews.  That  is  a  good  idea.  And  would  you  buy  these 
things  from  day  to  day  ? 

Agnolo.     I  should  not  buy  them  at  all,  for  that  would  not 


LEON   BATTISTA  ALBERTI.  53 

be  economy.  Whoever  sells  his  things,  sells  only  those  he 
no  longer  cares  to  retain.  Who,  think  you,  will  deprive  his 
house  of  the  best  rather  than  the  worst,  and  that  which  he 
deems  it  no  longer  prudent  to  retain  ?  In  some  cases,  how- 
ever, from  need  of  money,  the  better  articles  are  sold. 

Nephews,  We  are  persuaded  of  it,  and  he  who  would  be 
prudent  will  sell  the  least  valuable  first,  and  when  he  sells 
the  better  articles,  he  will  sell  them  for  more  than  cost. 

Agnolo.  True.  It  is  desirable,  however,  to  have  at  hand 
the  things  that  are  needed,  to  have  tested  them  and  to  know 
their  season;  so  that  I  am  better  pleased  to  have  them  in  the 
house  than  to  seek  them  elsewhere. 

Children.  Would  you  wish  to  have  in  the  house  a  whole 
year's  consumption  at  one  time  ? 

Agnolo.  I  should  like  to  have  in  the  house  that  which  is 
needed,  and  that  which  can  be  kept  without  risk,  annoy- 
ance or  extra  labor,  or  without  giving  cause  for  accidents  or 
too  much  lumbering  up  the  house.  That  which  would  not 
keep  I  should  sell,  and  refurnish  myself  from  time  to  time, 
for  it  is  better  to  leave  the  labor  and  risk  of  these  things  to 
others  until  the  time  of  their  use. 

Nephews.  Would  you  sell  that  which  you  had  previously 
bought  ? 

Agnolo.  Insomuch  as  I  might  do  so,  if  by  keeping  it  I 
should  incur  loss.  If  I  had  my  choice  I  should  not  wish  to 
sell  this  or  that  article,  because  these  things  belong  to  low 
and  mercenary  occupations.  Economy  demands  that  some- 
times you  should  lay  in  a  large  supply  and  that  you  should 
furnish  yourself  with  everything  in  season.  Still  I  tell  you 
that  I  should  not  like  to  be  obliged  to  pay  out  my  ready  cash 
every  year. 

Children.     We  do  not  see  how  that  can  be  avoided. 

Agnolo.  I  will  show  you.  I  should  manage  to  have  an 
estate,  which,  with  less  expense  than  buying  in  the  market, 
would  keep  the  house  supplied  with  grain,  wine,  oats,  wood, 
fodder  and  the  like.  Then  I  should  raise  sheep,  poultry, 
pigeons,  and  even  fish.  I  should  buy  this  property  out  of 
my  capital,  and  not  hire  it,  for  then  it  would  be  mine  and 


54  SOURCE-BOOK  OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

my  children's,  and  my  nephews'  as  well ;  so  that  we  should 
have  more  interest  in  its  care,  and  in  seeing  that  it  was  well 
cultivated,  since  my  successors  in  their  time  would  reap  the 
fruits  of  my  planting. 

Nephews.  Would  you  expect  to  gather  from  your  land  in 
a  single  location  grain,  wine,  oil,  fodder  and  wood  ? 

Agnolo.     Indeed  I  should. 

Children.  To  grow  good  wine  side-hills  and  a  southern 
exposure  are  necessary.  To  grow  good  grain  requires  flat 
land,  mellow  and  light.  Good  wood  grows  on  the  moun- 
tains and  on  steep  places  ;  hay  in  cool,  damp  meadows.  Do 
you  expect  to  find  such  a  diversity  in  any  one  locality  ?  Are 
there  indeed  many  localities  adapted  at  once  to  the  vine,  to 
grain  crops,  to  wood  and  pasturage  ?  And  if  you  found  such 
a  place,  do  you  believe  you  could  acquire  it,  except  at  a  high 
price  ? 

Agnolo.  I  believe  it  would  cost  dear.  But  I  remember 
that  in  the  vicinity  of  Florence  there  are  many  sites  in 
crystalline  air,  charming  country,  fine  view,  few  fogs  and 
harmful  winds,  good  water,  everything  healthful,  pure  and 
good  ;  and  many  handsome  houses,  like  seignorial  palaces 
(many  are  built  like  fortresses, — like  castles),  superb  and 
splendid  edifices.  I  should  seek  an  estate,  such  that,  taking 
there  a  measure  of  salt,  I  should  be  able  to  feed  my  family 
the  whole  year  through,  and  give  them  the  whole  year  what 
they  needed — if  not  all,  at  least  the  necessary  things,  such  as 
bread,  wine,  oil,  wood  and  corn.  To  see  that  nothing  was 
lacking  I  should  often  inspect  the  fields,  and  indeed  the 
whole  estate  ;  and  I  should  prefer  to  have  it  all  together,  or 
at  least  the  separate  portions  not  far  distant  from  each  other, 
in  order  to  be  able  the  more  easily  to  go  over  it  both  on  horse 
and  afoot. 

Children.  A  good  idea,  for  then  the  laborers  from  one 
end  to  the  other  would  not  neglect  their  tasks,  and  then  you 
would  not  have  trouble  with  them  so  often. 

Agnolo.  It  is  beyond  belief  how  roguery  has  grown 
amongst  the  peasantry.  Their  every  thought  is  to  deceive 
us;  and  you  may  be  sure  they  never  err  on  the  side  of  their 


^NEAS  SYLVIUS.  55 

own  disadvantage  in  your  dealings  with  them.  They  al- 
ways see  to  it  that  something  of  your  share  remains  with 
them.  In  the  first  place  the  peasant  asks  you  to  buy  his 
ox,  or  his  sheep,  goat,  swine  or  horse.  Then  he  demands 
a  loan  to  satisfy  his  creditors;  something  more  to  clothe  his 
family,  a  dowry  for  his  daughter,  something  to  rebuild  his 
cottage  or  other  buildings,  farming  utensils  to  be  replaced, 
and  he  never  ceases  with  his  complaints.  And  when  he  has 
been  well  paid,  better  perhaps  than  his  master,  he  still  con- 
tinues to  lament  and  to  plead  poverty.  Something  he  will 
always  be  in  want  of,  and  he  never  talks  with  you  that  it 
does  not  cost  you  something.  If  the  harvest  is  abundant, 
he  always  retains  the  better  share  for  himself.  If,  on 
account  of  bad  weather  or  any  other  cause,  the  harvest  fails, 
he  sets  aside  for  you  the  damaged  portion,  and  reserves  the 
greater  part  of  the  useful  product  for  himself;  the  useless 
and  injured  he  always  leaves  for  you. 

Nephews.  Then  it  would  be  better  to  spend  your  money 
in  town,  in  furnishing  your  house,  than  to  have  to  do  with 
such  persons. 

Agnolo.  Nay,  it  is  useful,  my  children,  to  have  to  do 
with  such  persons,  and  to  deal  with  rustic  dispositions,  in 
order  that  you  may  better  understand  how  to  deal  with  your 
fellow-citizens  of  equal  rank.  The  country  people  teach  us 
not  to  be  negligent,  and  if  you  are  careful  i?i  your  own  affairs 
?ieither  your  farmers  nor  other  people  will  be  able  to  cheat  you 
7/iuch,  and  you  will  not  be  obliged  to  endure  their  malice. 
Indeed,  you  may  laugh  at  it. 


&NEAS  SYL  VI US. 

Born  at  Corsignano,  near  Siena,  1405.  Studied  at  the  universities 
of  Siena  and  Florence.  Attended  the  council  of  Basel  as  secretary  to 
the  bishop  of  Fermo.  Visited  England  and  Scotland  on  papal  mis- 
sions. Attached  himself  to  the  court  of  the  Emperor  Frederick,  at 
Vienna.  Effected  the  compromise  of  1447  between  Emperor  and 
Pope.  Made  bishop  of  Trieste  by  Nicholas  V.  Elected  to  the  papacy, 
1458.  Died  at  Ancona,  1464,  while  endeavoring  to  set  in  motion  a 
crusade  against  the  Turks.     His  principal  writings  are  the  Commen- 


56  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE    ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE. 

taries,  the  Epistles,  various  treatises  on  the  history  of  Germany  and 
on  the  geography  of  Europe. 

extract  from  De  Liberorum  Educatione* 

§  2.  As  regards  a  boy's  physical  training,  we  must  bear  in 
mind  that  we  aim  at  implanting  habits  which  will  prove 
beneficial  during  life.  So  let  him  cultivate  a  certain  hard- 
ness which  rejects  excess  of  sleep  and  idleness  in  all  its 
forms.  Habits  of  indulgence — such  as  the  luxury  of  soft 
beds,  or  the  wearing  of  silk  instead  of  linen  next  the  skin, 
tend  to  enervate  both  body  and  mind.  Too  much  importance 
can  hardl)r  be  attached  to  right  bearing  and  gesture.  Child- 
ish habits  of  playing  with  the  lips  and  features  should  be 
early  controlled.  A  boy  should  be  taught  to  hold  his  head 
erect,  to  look  straight  and  fearlessly  before  him,  and  to  bear 
himself  with  dignity,  whether  walking,  standing,  or  sitting. 
In  ancient  Greece  we  find  that  both  philosophers  and  men 
of  affairs — Socrates,  for  instance,  and  Chrysippus,  or  Philip 
of  Macedon — deemed  this  matter  worthy  of  their  concern, 
and  therefore  it  may  well  be  thought  deserving  of  ours. 
Games  and  exercises  which  develop  the  muscular  activities 
and  the  general  carriage  of  the  person  should  be  encouraged 
by  every  teacher.  For  such  physical  training  not  only  cul- 
tivates grace  of  attitude,  but  secures  the  healthy  play  of  our 
bodily  organs  and  establishes  the  constitution. 

Every  youth  destined  to  exalted  position  should  further 
be  trained  in  military  exercises.  It  will  be  your  destiny  to 
defend  Christendom  against  the  Turk.  It  will  thus  be  an 
essential  part  of  your  education  that  you  be  early  taught  the 
use  of  the  bow,  of  the  sling,  and  of  the  spear;  that  you  drive, 
ride,  leap  and  swim.  These  are  honorable  accomplishments 
in  every  one,  and  therefore  not  unworthy  of  the  educator's 
care.  Ponder  the  picture  which  Virgil  gives  of  the  youth  of 
the  Itali,  skilled  in  all  the  warlike  exercises  of  their  time. 

*  From  Woodward:  Vittorino  da  Feltre  and  other  Humanist  Edu- 
cators. Cambridge,  1897.  iEneas  is  here  addressing  Ladislas,  the 
young  king  of  Bohemia  and  Hungary,  who  has  sought  his  advice  in 
the  matter  of  education. 


AENEAS   SYLVIUS.  57 

Games,  too,  should  be  encouraged  for  young  children — the 
ball,  the  hoop — but  these  must  not  be  rough  and  coarse,  but 
have  in  them  an  element  of  skill.  Such  relaxations  should 
form  an  integral  part  of  each  day's  occupations,  if  learning  is 
not  to  be  an  object  of  disgust.  Just  as  nature  and  the  life  of 
man  present  us  with  alternations  of  effort  and  repose — toil 
and  sleep,  winter  and  summer — so  we  may  hold,  with  Plato, 
that  it  is  a  law  of  our  being  that  rest  from  work  is  a  needful 
condition  of  further  work.  To  observe  this  truth  is  a  chief 
duty  of  the  master. 

In  respect  of  eating  and  drinking,  the  rule  of  moderation 
consists  in  rejecting  anything  which  needlessly  taxes  diges- 
tion and  so  impairs  mental  activity.  At  the  same  time  fas- 
tidiousness must  not  be  humored.  A  boy,  for  instance, 
whose  lot  it  may  be  to  face  life  in  the  camp,  or  in  the  forest, 
should  so  discipline  his  appetite  that  he  may  eat  even  beef. 
The  aim  of  eating  is  to  strengthen  the  frame;  so  let  vigor- 
ous health  reject  cakes  or  sweets,  elaborate  dishes  of  small 
birds  or  eels,  which  are  for  the  delicate  and  the  weakly. 
Your  own  countrymen,  like  all  northern  peoples,  are,  I  know, 
sore  offenders  in  this  matter  of  eating  and  drinking.  But  I 
count  upon  your  own  innate  self-respect  to  preserve  you  from 
such  bad  example,  and  to  enable  you  to  despise  the  sneers 
and  complaints  of  those  around  you.  What  but  disease  and 
decay  can  result  from  appetite  habitually  over-indulged  ? 
Such  concession  to  the  flesh  stands  condemned  by  all  of 
the  great  spirits  of  the  past.  In  Augustus  Caesar,  in  Soc- 
rates, we  have  instances  of  entire  indifference  in  choice  of 
food.  Caligula,  Nero  and  Vitellius  serve  as  sufficient  ex- 
amples of  grossly  sensual  tastes.  To  the  Greeks  of  the  best 
age  eating  and  drinking  were  only  means  to  living,  not  the 
chief  end  and  aim  of  it.  For  they  recognized,  with  Aris- 
totle, that  in  this  capacity  for  bodily  pleasures  we  are  on  the 
same  level  with  lower  creatures. 

As  regards  the  use  of  wine,  remember  that  we  drink  to 
quench  thirst,  and  that  the  limit  of  moderation  is  reached 
when  the  edge  of  the  intellect  is  dulled.  A  boy  should  be 
brought  up  to  avoid  wine,  for  he  possesses  a  store  of  natural 


58  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

moisture  in  the  blood  and  so  rarely  experiences  thirst.  Hence 
highly  diluted  wine  alone  can  be  allowed  to  children,  whilst 
women  are,  perhaps,  better  without  it  altogether,  as  was  the 
custom  in  Rome.  The  abuse  of  wine  is  more  common  amongst 
northern  peoples  than  in  Italy.  Plato  allowed  its  moderate 
enjoyment  as  tending  to  mental  relaxation,  and,  indeed, 
temperance  in  the  true  sense  is  hardly  consistent  with  the 
absolute  prohibition  of  all  that  might  seduce  us  from  our  vir- 
tuous resolutions.  So  that  a  young  man's  best  security 
against  excess  may  be  found  to  lie  in  a  cautious  use  of 
wine,  safeguarded  by  innate  strength  of  will  and  a  watchful 
temper.  There  is  no  reason  why  social  feastings  should 
not  be  dignified  by  serious  conversation  and  yet  be  bright 
and  gay  withal.  But  the  body,  after  all,  is  but  a  frame- 
work for  the  activities  of  the  mind;  and  so  we  hold  fast  to 
the  dictum  of  Pythagoras,  that  he  that  pampers  the  body  is 
devising  a  prison  for  himself  Even  if  we  had  not  the  sup- 
port of  the  Ancients,  it  is  evident  to  the  serious  mind  that 
food  and  clothing  are  worthy  of  regard  only  so  far  as  they 
are  indispensable  to  the  vigorous  activity  of  body  and  spirit; 
all  beyond  that  is  trivialty  or  effeminacy.  But  this  is  not 
to  exclude  that  care  for  the  outward  person  which  is,  indeed, 
demanded  from  everyone  by  self-respect,  but  is  peculiarly 
needful  in  a  prince. 

§  3.  We  must  now  hasten  on  to  the  larger  and  more  im- 
portant division  of  our  subject,  that  which  treats  of  the  most 
precious  of  all  human  endowments,  the  mind.  Birth,  wealth, 
fame,  health,  vigor  and  beauty  are,  indeed,  highly  prized  by 
mankind,  but  they  are  one  and  all  of  the  nature  of  accidents; 
they  come  and  they  go.  But  the  riches  of  the  mind  are  a 
stable  possession,  unassailable  by  fortune,  calumny,  or  time. 
Our  material  wealth  lies  at  the  mercy  of  a  successful  foe,  but, 
as  Stilpho  said,  '  War  can  exact  no  requisition  from  personal 
worth.'  So,  too,  you  will  remember  the  reply  of  Socrates  to 
Gorgias,  applying  it  to  your  own  case:  '  How  can  I  adjudge 
the  Great  King  happy,  until  I  know  to  what  he  can  truly 
lay  claim  in  character  and  in  wisdom  ? '  Lay  to  heart  the 
truth  here  conveyed:  our  one  sure  possession  is  character;  the 


^NEAS   SYLVIUS.  59 

place  and  fortune  of  men  change,  it  may  be  suddenly,  pro- 
foundly; nor  may  we,  by  taking  thought,  cunningly  hedge 
ourselves  round  against  all  the  chances  of  life.  As  Solon 
long  ago  declared,  no  sane  man  dare  barter  excellence  for 
money.  Nay,  rather,  it  is  a  function  of  true  wisdom,  as  the 
Tyrants  found  by  their  experience,  to  enable  us  to  bear  varia- 
tions of  fortune.  Philosophy,  or,  in  other  words,  the  inquiry 
into  the  nature  of  virtue,  is  indeed  a  study  specially  meet  for 
princes.  For  they  are  in  a  sense  the  arbitary  embodiment 
of  law;  a  responsibility  which  may  well  weigh  heavily  upon 
them.  Truly  has  it  been  said  that  no  one  has  greater  need 
of  a  well-stored  mind  than  he  whose  will  counts  for  the  hap- 
piness or  misery  of  thousands.  Like  Solomon,  he  will  rightly 
pray  for  wisdom  in  the  guidance  of  the  state. 

Need  I,  then,  impress  upon  you  the  importance  of  the 
study  of  philosophy,  and  of  letters,  without  which  indeed 
philosophy  itself  is  barely  intelligible  ?  By  this  twofold 
wisdom  a  prince  is  trained  to  understand  the  laws  of  God 
and  of  man;  by  it  we  are,  one  and  all,  enlightened  to  seethe 
realities  of  the  world  around  us.  Literature  is  our  guide  to 
the  true  meaning  of  the  past,  to  a  right  estimate  of  the 
present,  to  a  sound  forecast  of  the  future.  Where  letters 
cease,  darkness  covers  the  land;  and  a  prince  who  cannot 
read  the  lessons  of  history  is  a  helpless  prey  of  flattery  and 
intrigue. 

Next  we  ask,  at  what  age  should  a  boy  begin  the  study  of 
letters  ?  Theodosius  and  Eratosthenes  regarded  the  seventh 
year  as  the  earliest  reasonable  period.  But  Aristophanes, 
followed  by  Chrysippus  and  Quintilian,  would  have  children 
from  the  very  cradle  begin  their  training  under  nurses  of 
skilled  intelligence.  In  this  matter  of  nurses  the  greatest 
care  is  necessary,  so  subtle  are  the  influences  which  affect 
the  growing  mind.  But  above  all  other  safeguards  stands 
the  unconscious  guidance  of  the  mother,  who,  like  Cornelia 
of  old,  must  instil  by  example  a  refined  habit  of  speech  and 
bearing. 

In  religion,  I  may  assume  from  your  Christian  nurture 
that  you  have  learnt  the  Lord's  Prayer,  the  Salutation  of  the 


60  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE    ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

Blessed  Virgin,  the  Creed,  the  Gospel  of  St.  John,  and  cer- 
tain Collects.  You  have  been  taught  in  what  consist  the 
chief  Commandments  of  God,  the  gifts  of  the  Spirit,  the 
deadly  sins;  the  way  of  salvation  and  the  doctrine  of  the  life 
of  the  world  to  come.  This  latter  truth  was,  indeed,  taught 
by  Socrates,  as  we  know  from  Cicero.  Nor  can  any  earthly 
interest  have  so  urgent  a  claim  upon  us.  We  shall  not 
value  this  human  existence  which  has  been  bestowed  upon 
us  except  in  so  far  as  it  prepares  us  for  the  future  state. 
The  fuller  truth  concerning  this  great  doctrine  is  beyond 
your  years;  but  you  may,  as  time  goes  on,  refer  to  what  has 
been  laid  down  by  the  great  doctors  of  the  church;  and  not 
only  by  them,  for,  as  Basil  allows,  the  poets  and  other 
authors  of  antiquity  are  saturated  with  the  same  faith,  and 
for  this  reason  deserve  our  study.  Literature,  indeed,  is 
ever  holding  forth  to  us  the  lesson,  '  God  before  all  else.'  As 
a  prince,  moreover,  your  whole  life  and  character  should  be 
marked  by  gratitude  for  favors  showered  \ipon  you  for  no 
merit  of  your  own,  and  by  reverence,  which,  in  all  that  con- 
cerns the  services,  the  faith,  and  the  authority  of  the 
Church,  will  lead  you  to  emulate  the  filial  obedience  of 
Constantine  and  Theodosius.  For  although  the  priesthood 
is  committed  to  the  protection  of  kings,  it  is  not  under  their 
authority. 

In  the  choice  of  companions  be  careful  to  seek  the  society 
of  those  only  whose  example  is  worthy  of  your  imitation. 
This  is  indeed  a  matter  which  closely  concerns  your  future 
welfare.  We  are  all,  in  youth  especially,  in  danger  of 
yielding  to  the  influence  of  evil  example.  Above  all,  I  trust 
that  your  tutors  will  keep  you  clear  of  that  insidious  form 
of  flattery  which  consists  in  agreeing  with  everything  we 
may  affirm  or  propose.  Extend  your  intimacy  only  to  those 
of  your  own  years  who  are  frank  and  truthful,  pure  in  word 
and  act,  modest  in  manner,  temperate  and  peaceful.  Seize 
every  opportunity  of  learning  to  converse  in  the  vulgar 
tongues  spoken  in  your  realm.  It  is  unworthy  of  a  prince 
to  be  unable  without  an  interpreter  to  hold  intercourse  with 
his  people.     Mithridates  could  speak  with  his  subjects  of 


^NEAS  SYLVIUS.  6 1 

whatever  province  in  their  own  language;  whilst  neglect  of 
this  plain  duty  lost  to  the  Empire  and  its  German  sovereigns 
its  fair  province  of  Italy.  The  ties  that  bind  monarch  and 
people  should  be  woven  of  mutual  affection,  and  how  is  this 
possible  where  free  and  intelligible  communication  cannot 
exist?  As  Homer  says,  silence  is  becoming  in  a  woman; 
but  in  a  man,  and  that  man  a  King,  standing  before  his 
people,  it  is  rather  a  shame  and  a  disgrace. 

§4.  But  further:  we  must  learn  to  express  ourselves  with 
distinction,  with  style  and  manner  worthy  of  our  subject.  In 
a  word,  eloquence  is  a  prime  accomplishment  in  one  im- 
mersed in  affairs.  Ulysses,  though  a  poor  warrior,  was 
adjudged  worthy  of  the  arms  of  Achilles  by  virtue  of  his 
persuasive  speech.  Cicero,  too,  admonishes  us  to  the  same 
effect:  "  I,et  arms  to  the  toga  yield."  But  speech  should 
ever  follow  upon  reflection;  without  that  let  a  boy,  nay,  a 
man  also,  be  assured  that  silence  is  his  wiser  part.  Such 
orators  as  Pericles  or  Demosthenes  refused  to  address  the 
Assembly  without  opportunity  for  careful  preparation.  A 
facile  orator  speaks  from  his  lips,  not  from  his  heart  or  un- 
derstanding; and  forgets  that  loquacity  is  not  the  same  as 
eloquence.  How  often  have  men  cause  to  regret  the  gift  of 
too  ready  speech,  and  '  the  irrevocable  word  '  of  which  Hor- 
ace warns  us.  Still  there  is  a  middle  course;  a  moderation 
in  speech,  which  avoids  alike  a  Pythagorean  silence  and  the 
chatter  of  a  Thersites;  and  at  this  we  should  aim.  For 
without  reasonable  practice  the  faculty  of  public  speech 
may  be  found  altogether  wanting  when  the  need  arises. 
The  actual  delivery  of  our  utterances  calls  for  methodical 
training.  The  shrill,  tremulous  tones  of  a  girl  must  be 
rigidly  forbidden,  as  on  the  other  hand  must  any  tendency 
to  shout.  The  entire  word  must  in  every  case  be  uttered, 
proper  value  given  to  each  syllable  and  each  letter,  with 
especial  attention  to  the  final  sound.  Words  must  not,  as 
it  were,  linger  in  the  throat,  but  be  clearly  emitted,  both 
tongue  and  lips  taking  duly  their  respective  parts.  Your 
master  will  arrange  as  exercises  words  in  which  the  form  or 
connexion  of  syllables  demands  peculiar  care  in  their  enun- 


62  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE    ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

ciation.  You  remember  the  device  by  which  Demosthenes 
trained  his  voice  to  reach  a  crowded  assembly. 

To  express  yourself,  then,  with  grace  and  distinction  is  a 
proper  object  of  your  ambition;  and  without  ambition  ex- 
cellence, in  this  or  other  studies,  is  rarely  attained  But  if 
speech  be,  as  Democritus  said,  the  shadow  of  which  thought 
and  conduct  are  the  reality,  you  will  be  warned  by  corrupt 
conversation  to  avoid  the  corrupt  nature  from  which  it  pro- 
ceeds. We  know  that  Ulysses  cunningly  guarded  his  com- 
rades from  the  song  of  the  Sirens;  and  that  St.  Paul  quotes 
Menander  upon  the  mischief  wrought  by  '  evil  communica- 
tions.' But  this  by  no  means  implies  that  we  must  be  al- 
ways at  the  extreme  of  seriousness  in  social  intercourse.  In 
conversation  kindness  and  courtesy  are  always  attractive: 
pertinacity  or  pretentiousness  are  odious;  a  turgid,  affected 
style  arouses  contempt.  Insincerity  or  malice  are,  of  course, 
not  mere  defects  in  form  but  positive  sins.  So  let  your  ad- 
dress be  frank,  outspoken,  self-respecting,  manly. 

Nature  and  circumstances  thus  provide  us  with  the  gen- 
eral material  of  speech,  its  topics,  and  the  broader  conditions 
of  their  treatment.  When,  however,  speech  is  considered  as 
an  art,  we  find  that  it  is  the  function  of  Grammar  to  order  its 
expression;  of  Dialectic  to  give  it  point;  of  Rhetoric  to  illus- 
trate it;  of  Philosophy  to  perfect  it.  But  before  entering 
upon  this  in  detail  we  must  first  insist  upon  the  overwhelm- 
ing importance  of  Memory,  which  is  in  truth  the  first  condi- 
tion of  capacity  for  letters.  A  boy  should  learn  without  ef- 
fort, retain  with  accuracy,  and  reproduce  easily.  Rightly 
is  memory  called  '  the  nursing  mother  of  learning. '  It  needs 
cultivation,  however,  whether  a  boy  be  gifted  with  retentive- 
ness  or  not.  Therefore,  let  some  passage  from  poet  or  moral- 
ist be  committed  to  memory  every  day. 

BARTOLOMMEO  SACCHI,  CALLED  PLATINA. 

Born  at  Piadena,  near  Cremona,  about  142 1.  In  his  youth  served 
four  years  as  a  soldier.  Later  on  studied  at  Mantua  and  attached 
himself  to  Cardinal  Francesco  Gonzago,  who  took  him  to  Rome.  Be- 
came a  member  of  the  Academy  of  Pomponius  Laetus,  organized  for 


BARTOLOMMEO   SACCHI.  63 

the  discovery  and  interpretation  of  Roman  antiquities.  1475,  placed 
in  charge  of  the  Vatican  library  by  Sixtus  IV.  Died  1481.  His  chief 
literary  work  is  entitled:  In  vitas  summorum  pontificum  ad  Sixtum 
IV.  pontificem  maximum,  praeclarum  opus. 

NICHOLAS  v.* 

He  was  commendable  for  his  Liberality  toward  all,  especi- 
ally Learned  men,  whom  he  advanced  with  Money,  Court- 
preferments,  and  Benefices;  whom  he  would  sometimes  put 
upon  reading,  publick  Lectures,  sometimes  upon  writing 
some  new  thing,  and  sometimes  upon  translating  Greek 
authors  into  Latin,  insomuch  that  the  Greek  and  Latin 
Tongues,  which  had  lain  hid  for  six  hundred  years,  at  last 
regained  their  splendor  to  some  considerable  degree.  He 
also  sent  those  Learned  Men  all  over  Europe  to  find  out  such 
books  as  had  been  lost  either  by  the  negligence  of  Antiquity, 
or  the  brutal  fury  of  the  barbarous  Nations.  So  that  Poggius 
found  out  Quintilian,  and  Enoch  Asculanus,  Marcus  Coelius 
Appicius,  as  also  Pomponius  Porphyrio,  a  famous  Writer  upon 
Horace.  Besides,  he  erected  most  stately  Buildings  in  the 
City,  and  the  Vatician:  in  the  city,  a  noble  House  for  Popes, 
near  .S.  Mary  the  Greater,  and  repaired  6".  Stephen' s  Church, 
that  stands  in  the  Mount  di  S.  Giovanni,  but  built  S.  Theo- 
dores, that  stands  upon  the  plain  between  the  Palazzo  Mag- 
giore  and  the  Campidoglio,  from  the  ground.  He  likewise 
covered  the  roof  of  S.  Mary  the  Round  which  stands  in  the 
middle  of  the  City,  an  ancient  Temple  built  by  Agrippa, 
with  Lead,  and  in  the  Vatician  he  not  only  beautified  the 
Pope's  House  after  that  manner  which  we  see,  but  he  began 
the  Walls  of  the  Vatican,  very  large  and  high,  laying  founda- 
tions for  Towers,  and  a  vast  Superstructure,  whereby  to  keep 
the  Enemy  from  plundering  the  Pope's  House,  or  St.  Peter's 
Church,  as  formerly  was  often  used.     Furthermore,  in  the 

*From  the  Lives  of  the  Popes,  from  the  time  of  our  Saviour  Jesus 
Christ,  to  the  Reign  of  Sixtus  IV.  Written  originally  in  Latin,  By 
Baptista  Platina,  native  of  Cremona,  and  Translated  into  English 
******  by  Sir  Paul  Rycant,  Kt.  London,  Printed  for  C.  Wilkin- 
son, and  are  to  be  Sold  by  A.  Churchil  at  the  Black  Swan  in  Ave-Mary 
lane,  1688. 


64  SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE   ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE. 

upper  end  of  S.  Peter's  he  began  a  great  Gallery,  to  make  the 
Church  more  glorious,  aud  hold  more  People.     He  also  re- 
paired Ponte  Molle:  and  built  a  fine  House  at  Viterbo,  near  the 
Baths.     Nor  only  so,  but  he  lent  many  others  money  who 
were  a-building  in  the  City  ;  aud  by  his  order  the  Streets 
were  paved.     He  was  very  Charitable,  especially  to  Persons 
of  Quality  if  they  happened  to  be  reduced  to  Poverty  ;  and 
gave  poor  Maids  a  competent  Portion  when  the)7  were  mar- 
ried.    He  always  received  foreign  Embassadors  very  honor- 
ably and  freely.     He  was  easily  anger' d,  to  say  the  truth, 
being  a  cholerick  Man,  but  he  was  easily  pleased   again; 
and  that  gave  some  ill-natur'd  People  the  occasion  to  Carp 
at   him,    though  he  deserved  extremely  well  of    God  and 
Man.     Then  he  was  so  far  from  Covetousness,  that  he  never 
sold  any  Place,  nor  ever  was  guilty  of  Simony.      He  was 
kind  to  them,  who  deserved  well  of  himself  and  the  Church 
of  God,  a  lover  of  Justice,  the  Author  and  preserver  of  Peace, 
merciful  to  Offenders,  a  diligent  observer  of  Ceremonies,  and 
would  omit  nothing   belonging  to  Divine  Worship.     The 
Vessels  of  Gold  and  Silver,  Crosses  set  with  Jewels,  Priestly 
Robes  adorn' d  with  Gold  and  Pearls,  the  arras  Hangings 
interwoven  with  Gold  and  Silver,  and  a  Papal  Crown,  are 
yet  to  be  seen  as  Monuments  of  his  Munificence.     I  do  not 
mention  the  many  holy  Books  that  were  transcribed  by  his 
Order  and  Embossed  with  Gold  and  Silver :  but  you  may 
see  the  Pope's  Library,  which  was  wonderfully  augmented 
by   his  care,  and  at  his  charge.     He  was  so  kind  to  the 
Religious  that  he  gave  'em  a  great  deal  of  money  and  Eccle- 
siastical Benefices  besides ;  and  canonized  S.  Bernardine  of 
Siena,  a  Frier  Minor,  because  by  his  Preaching,  Admoni- 
tions,  Reproofs,  he  had   almost  extinguish'd  the   Factions 
of  Italy,  that   is   to   say,  the  Guelphs   and   the  Gibelline 
Faction,   and  shew'd  Christians  the  way  to  live  well  and 
happily:  whose  Body  is  now  to  be  seen,  and  daily  visited 
with  great  veneration,  at  Aquila. 


BARTOLOMMEO  SACCHI.  65 

PIUS  II. 
*  ^t  $;  ^  :£  :£  %■ 

Moreover,  he  so  ordered  his  method  of  living  that  he  could 
never  be  accused  of  idleness  or  sloth.  He  rose  as  soon  as 
'twas  day  for  his  health  sake,  and,  having  said  his  Prayers 
very  devoutly,  went  about  his  worldly  affairs.  When  he  had 
done  his  morning's  work,  and  walked  about  the  Gardens  for 
his  recreation,  he  went  to  Dinner;  in  which  he  used  an 
indifferent  sort  of  Diet ;  not  curious  and  dainty.  For  he 
seldom  bid  'em  get  him  this  or  that  particular  Dish,  but 
whatever  they  set  before  him,  he  ate  of.  He  was  very  ab- 
stemious, and  when  he  did  drink  wine,  it  was  always  diluted 
with  Water,  and  pleasant  rather  than  rough  upon  the  Palate. 
After  meals  he  either  discoursed  or  disputed  half  an  hour 
with  his  Chaplains,  and  then  going  into  his  Bed-Chamber, 
he  took  a  nap;  after  which  he  went  to  Prayers  again,  and 
then  wrote  or  read,  as  long  as  his  business  would  permit. 
The  same  also  he  did  after  Supper  ;  for  he  both  read  and 
dictated  till  midnight  as  he  lay  in  his  Bed,  nor  did  he  sleep 
above  five  or  six  hours.  He  was  a  short  man,  gray- haired 
before  his  time,  and  had  a  wrinkled  face  before  he  was  old. 
In  his  aspect  he  bore  severity  tempered  with  good-nature, 
and  in  his  Garb  was  neither  finical,  nor  negligent,  but  so 
contrived  it,  as  to  be  consistent  with  the  pains  which  he 
usually  took.  He  could  patiently  endure  both  hunger  and 
thirst,  because  he  was  naturally  very  strong  ;  and  yet  his 
long  journeys,  frequent  labour,  and  Watchings  had  impair'd 
him.  His  usual  Diseases  were  the  Cough,  the  Stone,  and 
Gout,  wherewith  he  was  often  so  tormented,  that  nobody 
could  say  he  was  alive  but  by  his  Voice.  And  even  in  his 
sickness  he  was  very  accessible,  but  sparing  of  Words  ;  and 
unwilling  to  deny  any  Man's  Petition.  He  laid  out  all  the 
Money  he  got  together  ;  and  did  neither  love  Gold  nor  con- 
temn it ;  but  would  never  be  by,  whilst  it  was  told  out,  or 
laid  up.  He  seemed  not  to  cherish  the  Wits  of  his  Age, 
because  three  grevious  Wars  which  he  had  undertook  had  so 
continually  exhausted  the  Pontifical  Treasury  that  he  was 
oftentimes  much  in  Debt ;  and  yet  he  preferred  many  learned 


66  SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE   ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE. 

men  to  places  both  in  the  Court,  and  Church.  He  would 
willingly  hear  an  Oration,  or  a  Poem,  and  always  submitted 
his  own  Writings  to  the  judgment  of  the  Learned.  He  hated 
Ly  ars  and  Sycophants,  was  soon  angry  and  soon  pleased  again. 
He  pardon'd  those  that  reviled,  or  scoff'd  at  him,  unless  they 
injur' d  the  See  Apostolick  ;  the  Dignity  whereof  he  always 
had  such  a  respect  for,  as  upon  that  account  often  to  fall  out 
with  great  Kings  and  Princes.  He  was  very  kind  to  his 
Houshold  Servants  ;  for  those  that  he  found  in  an  errour, 
through  folly  or  ignorance,  he  admonished  like  a  Father. 
He  never  reproved  any  one  for  speaking  or  thinking  ill  of 
him  ;  because  in  a  free  city  he  desired  everjr  body  should 
utter  their  minds.  And  when  one  told  him,  that  he  had  an 
*11  Report,  he  reply'd  ;  go  unto  the  Campo  di  Fiore,  and  you'll 
hear  a  great  many  talk  against  me.  If  at  any  time  he  had 
a  mind  to  change  the  Air  of  Rome  for  a  better,  he  went 
especially  in  the  Summer,  to  Tivoli,  or  his  own  Country, 
Siena.  But  he  was  mightily  pleased  with  the  retirement  of 
an  Abby  in  Siena,  which  is  very  delightful,  and  cool  too  by 
reason  of  its  situation  and  the  shad}'  Groves  that  are  about 
it.  He  frequented  the  baths  at  Macerata  and  Petriolana  for 
his  health's  sake.  He  used  thin  Cloths,  and  his  Expences  in 
Silver  look'd  more  frugal  than  Prince-like.  For  his  whole 
delight  (when  he  had  leisure)  was  in  writing  and  reading : 
because  he  valued  good  Books  more  than  precious  Stones  ; 
for  in  them  he  said  there  was  great  plenty  of  Gems.  He  so 
far  contemn'd  a  splendid  Table,  that  he  went  often  times  to 
Fountains,  Groves,  and  Country  recesses  for  his  own  humour, 
wdiere  he  entertain'd  himself  not  like  a  Pope,  but  an  honest 
humble  Rustick.  Nor  were  there  wanting  some  wTho  found 
fault  with  this  his  frequent  change  of  places,  especially  his 
Courtiers  ;  because  no  Pope  had  ever  done  so  before  him, 
unless  in  time  of  War,  or  of  a  Plague.  But  he  always 
slighted  their  Cavils,  and  said,  that  for  all  his  pleasure  he 
never  omitted  any  thing  that  befitted  the  dignity  of  a  Pope, 
or  tended  to  the  good  of  the  Court.  In  all  places  he  Sealed, 
heard  Causes,  Censur'd,  Answer'd,  Asserted  and  Confuted  ; 
to  give  full  satisfaction  to  all  sorts  of  men.     He  could  not  eat 


BARTOLOMMEO   SACCHI.  67 

willing  alone,  and  therefore  invited  either  the  Cardinal  of 
Spoleto,  of  Tram,  or  of  Pavia,  commonly  to  Dine  or  Sup  with 
him.  At  Supper  he  used  to  discourse  of  Learning,  and  rubb'd 
up  his  old  Notions  of  the  Ancients ;  shewing  how  commend- 
able each  of  'em  was  in  this  or  that  particular. 

When  he  was  a  youth  indeed  and  not  yet  initiated  into 
Divinity,  he  set  out  Poems  that  were  rather  light,  and 
jocular,  than  serious  and  grave  :  and  yet  sometimes  even  in 
them  he  was  elevated,  nor  did  he  want  satyrical  sharpness 
amidst  his  merry  Conceits.  There  are  Epigrams  of  his  ex- 
tant, that  are  full  of  Wit,  and  he  is  said  to  have  written  about 
three  thousand  Verses,  which  were  lost  most  part  of  'em  at 
Basil.  The  remainder  of  his  life  he  wrote  Prose  onely,  his 
grand  affairs  rather  inclining  him  to  it ;  but  he  also  loved  a 
mixed  stile,  more  fit  for  Philosophy.  He  set  forth  several 
Books  of  Dialogues  about  the  Power  of  the  Council  at  Basil, 
about  the  Rise  of  the  Nile,  of  Hunting,  of  Destiny,  of  God's 
Prescience,  and  of  the  Heresie  in  Bohemia.  He  left  an  im- 
perfect Dialogue  which  he  began  against  the  Turks  in  defence 
of  Christianity.  He  digested  his  Epistles  into  their  several 
occasions  and  seasons  when  they  were  written :  and  those 
that  he  wrote  when  he  was  a  Dayman,  a  Clergy,  a  Bishop, 
or  Pope  he  put  into  distinct  Tomes :  wherein  he  excites 
Kings,  Princes,  and  others  to  engage  in  the  War  for  Re- 
ligion. There  is  an  Epistle  of  his  extant  which  he  wrote 
to  the  Turk,  to  persuade  him  from  Mahometanism  to  the 
Christian  Faith.  He  also  wrote  a  Book  about  the  Life  of 
Courtiers  ;  as  likewise  a  Grammar  for  Ladislans  the  young 
King  of  Hungary.  He  farthermore  composed  thirty  two 
Orations,  exhorting  Kings,  Princes,  and  Commonwealths  to 
Peace,  and  in  defence  of  Religion,  to  promote  the  quiet  and 
Concord  of  the  whole  World.  He  perfected  the  History  of 
Bohemia,  but  left  that  of  Austria  imperfect.  And  though  he 
was  upon  a  History  of  all  the  remarkable  actions  of  his 
Time,  yet  he  was  never  able,  for  his  business,  to  finish  it. 
He  wrote  twelve  Books  and  began  the  thirteenth  of  things 
done  by  himself.     His  Stile  was  soft  and  easie,  in  which  he 


68  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE   ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE. 

made  several  excellent  and  pertinent  Sermons.  For  he  could 
readily  move  the  Affections  with  handsom  and  graceful  Ex- 
pressions. He  very  aptly  describes  situations  of  Places  and 
Rivers,  assuming  various  ways  of  Eloquence,  as  the  occasion 
required.  He  was  well  acquainted  with  Antiquity ;  nor  could 
any  Town  be  mention' d,  but  be  could  tell  its  rise  and  situa- 
tion: besides  that  he  would  give  an  account  in  what  Age 
famous  Men  flourish' d.  He  would  sometimes  take  notice  of 
Mimicks  for  his  pleasure:  and  left  many  Sayings  behind  him, 
of  which  I  thought  fit  to  add  some  to  this  account  of  his  Life: 
to  wit:  That  the  Divine  Nature  was  better  understood  by 
Believing  than  by  Disputing.  That  all  Sects  though  con- 
firm'd  by  humane  Authority  yet  wanted  Reason.  That  the 
Christian  ought  to  be  received  upon  its  own  credit,  though 
it  had  never  been  back'd  with  Miracles.  That  there  were 
three  Persons  in  the  Godhead,  not  proved  to  be  so  by  Reason, 
but  by  considering  who  said  so.  That  those  men  who  pre- 
tended to  measure  the  Heavens  and  the  Earth  were  rather 
bold  than  certain  what  they  did  was  right.  That  to  find  out 
the  motion  of  the  Stars  had  more  pleasure  in  it,  than  profit. 
That  God's  Friends  enjoy'd  both  this  Life  and  that  to  come. 
That  without  Vertue  there  was  no  true  Joy.  That  as  a 
covetous  man  is  never  satisfied  with  Money,  so  a  Learned 
Man  should  not  be  with  knowledg;  But  that  he  who  knew 
never  so  much  might  yet  find  somewhat  to  be  studied. 
That  common  Men  should  value  Learning  as  Silver,  Noble- 
men as  Gold,  and  Princes  as  Jewels.  That  good  Physitians 
did  not  seek  the  money  but  the  health  of  the  party  diseas'd. 
That  a  florid  Speech  did  not  move  wrise  men  but  Fools.  That 
those  Laws  are  Sacred  which  restrain  Licentiousness.  That 
the  Laws  had  Power  over  the  Commonalty,  but  were  feeble 
to  the  greater  sort.  That  great  Controversies  were  decided 
by  the  Sword  and  not  by  the  Laws.  A  Citizen  should  look 
upon  his  Family  as  subject  to  the  City,  the  City  to  his 
Country,  his  Country  to  the  World,  and  the  World  to  God. 
That  the  chief  place  with  Kings  was  slippery.  That  as  all 
Rivers  run  into  the  Sea,  so  do  all  Vices  into  Courts.  That 
Flatterers  draw  Kings  whither  they  please.     That  Kings 


BARTOLOMMEO   SACCHI.  69 

hearken  to  none  more  easily  than  to  Sycophants.  That  the 
tongue  of  a  Flatterer  was  a  King's  greatest  Plague.  That  a 
King  who  would  trust  nobody  was  good  for  nothing,  and 
he  that  believed  everybody  was  no  better.  That  it  is  neces- 
sary he  that  governs  many  should  himself  be  ruled  by  many. 
That  he  deserv'd  not  the  name  of  a  King  who  measured  the 
Publick  by  his  private  advantage.  That  he  who  neglected 
holy  Duties  did  not  deserve  the  Church  Revenue,  nor  a  King 
his  Taxes,  that  did  not  constant  Justice.  He  said  those  that 
went  to  Law  were  the  Birds;  the  Court,  the  Field;  thejudg, 
the  Net;  and  the  Lawyers,  the  Fowlers.  That  men  ought 
to  be  presented  to  Dignities  and  not  Dignities  to  the  Men. 
That  some  Men  had  Offices  and  did  not  deserve  'em,  whilst 
others  deserv'd  'em  and  had  'em  not.  That  the  burthen  of 
a  Pope  was  heavy,  but  he  was  happy  who  bore  it  stoutly. 
That  an  illiterate  Bishop  was  like  an  Ass.  That  ill  Physi- 
cians kill'd  the  body  and  ignorant  Priests  the  Soul.  That  a 
wandring  Monk  was  the  Devil's  Bondslave.  That  Virtue 
had  enriched  the  Clergy,  but  Vice  made  'em  poor.  That 
there  was  great  reason  for  the  prohibiting  of  Priests  to 
marry,  but  greater  for  allowing  it  again.  That  no  treasure 
was  preferable  to  a  faithful  friend.  That  Life  was  like  a 
friend,  and  Envy  like  Death.  That  he  cherishes  an  Enemy 
who  pardons  his  Son  too  often.  That  a  covetous  Man  never 
pleases  any  body  but  by  his  Death.  That  Men's  faults  are 
conceal'd  by  Liberality,  and  discover'd  by  Avarice.  That  it 
was  a  slavish  Vice  to  tell  Lyes.  That  the  Use  of  Wine  had 
augmented  the  Cares  and  the  Distempers  of  Mankind.  That 
a  Man  ought  to  take  as  much  Wine  as  would  raise  and  not 
overwhelm  his  Soul.  That  Lust  did  sully  and  stain  every 
age  of  Man,  but  quite  extinguished  old  Age.  That  Gold  it- 
self and  Jewels  could  not  purchase  Content.  That  it  was 
pleasant  to  the  Good,  but  terrible  to  the  Bad,  to  Die.  That 
a  noble  Death  was  to  be  preferr'd  before  a  dishonorable  Life 
in  the  Opinion  of  all  Philosophers. 


70  SOURCK-BOOK    OF  THE   ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE. 

VESPASIANO  DA  BISTICCI. 

Born  in  Florence,  1421.  Died  1498.  Little  is  known  of  Vespasi- 
ano's  life  beyond  the  fact  that  he  was  a  book-seller,  and  in  this  manner 
came  in  contact  with  the  leading  humanists  and  patrons  of  learning 
of  his  time. 

From  Life  of  Nicholas  V. — The  Papal  Library* 

XXIV.  At  this  time  came  the  year  of  jubilee,  and  since 
it  was  the  true  jubilee,  that  is,  at  the  end  of  a  period  of  fifty 
years,  according  to  the  law  of  the  Church,  the  concourse  of 
people  at  Rome  was  such  that  no  one  had  ever  known  a 
greater.  It  was  a  wonderful  thing  to  see  the  great  assem- 
blage of  people  who  came.  In  Rome  and  Florence  the 
streets  were  so  crowded  that  the  people  seemed  like  swarms 
of  ants;  and  at  the  bridge  of  Sant'  Angelo  there  was  such  a 
crowd  of  people  of  all  nationalities,  that  they  were  jammed 
together,  and  unable  to  move  in  any  direction.  So  great 
was  the  crowd,  indeed,  that  in  the  struggle  between  those 
who  came  to  seek  indulgences  and  those  who  were  already 
at  the  place,  more  than  two  hundred  persons,  male  and 
female,  lost  their  lives.  When  pope  Nicholas,  who  felt 
much  anxiety  in  regard  to  these  matters,  heard  of  the  acci- 
dent, he  was  much  displeased,  took  provisions  to  prevent  its 
recurrence,  and  caused  to  be  built  at  the  approach  to  the 
bridge  two  small  churches  in  memory  of  so  great  a  disaster 
as  was  this  destruction  of  so  many  men  upon  the  occasion  of 
the  jubilee,  and  he  provided  for  their  burial. 

XXV.  A  great  quantity  of  money  came  by  this  means 
to  the  Apostolic  See,  and  with  this  the  pope  commenced 
building  in  many  places,  and  sent  for  Greek  and  L,atin 
books,  wherever  he  was  able  to  find  them,  without  regard 
to  price.  He  gathered  together  a  large  band  of  writers,  the 
best  that  he  could  find,  and  kept  them  in  constant  employ- 
ment. He  also  summoned  a  number  of  learned  men,  both 
for  the  purpose  of  composing  new  works,  and  of  translating 

*Vite  di  vomini  illustri  del  Secolo  XV.  Ed.  Adolfo  Bartoli.  Flor- 
ence, 1S59. 


VESPASIANO  DA   BISTICCI.  7 1 

such  works  as  were  not  already  translated,  giving  them 
most  abundant  provision  for  their  needs  meanwhile;  and 
when  the  works  were  translated  and  brought  to  him,  he 
gave  them  large  sums  of  money,  in  order  that  they  should 
do  more  willingly  that  which  they  undertook  to  do.  He 
made  great  provision  for  the  needs  of  learned  men.  He  gath- 
ered together  great  numbers  of  books  upon  every  subject, 
both  Greek  and  Latin,  to  the  number  of  5000  volumes.  So 
at  his  death  it  was  found  by  inventory  that  never  since  the 
time  of  Ptolemy  had  half  the  number  of  books  of  every  kind 
been  brought  together.  All  books  he  caused  to  be  copied, 
without  regard  to  what  it  cost  him,  and  there  were  few 
places  where  his  Holiness  had  not  copiers  at  work.  When 
he  could  not  find  a  book,  nor  secure  it  in  any  way,  he  had  it 
copied.  After  he  had  assembled  at  Rome,  as  I  said  above, 
many  learned  men  at  large  salaries,  he  wrote  to  Florence  to 
Messer  Giannozzo  Manetti,  that  he  should  come  to  Rome  to 
translate  and  compose  for  him.  And  when  Manetti  left 
Florence  and  came  to  Rome,  the  pope,  as  was  his  custom, 
received  him  with  honor,  and  assigned  to  him,  in  addition  to 
his  income  as  secretary,  six  hundred  ducats,  urging  him  to 
attempt  the  translation  of  the  books  of  the  Bible  and  of 
Aristotle,  and  to  complete  the  book  already  commenced  by 
him,  Co?itra  Judeos  et  gentes ;  a  wonderful  work,  if  it  had 
been  completed,  but  he  carried  it  only  to  the  tenth  book. 
Moreover,  he  translated  the  New  Testament,  and  the  Psalter 
De  hcbraica  Veritaie,  with  five  apologetical  books  in  defense 
of  this  Psalter,  showing  that  in  the  Holy  Scriptures  there 
is  not  one  syllable  that  does  not  contain  the  greatest  of 
mysteries. 

XXVI.  It  was  pope  Nicholas'  intention  to  found  a  library 
in  St.  Peter's,  for  the  general  use  of  the  whole  Roman  curia, 
which  would  have  been  an  admirable  thing  indeed,  if  he 
had  been  able  to  carry  it  out,  but  death  prevented  his  bring- 
ing it  to  completion.  He  illumined  the  Holy  Scriptures 
with  innumerable  books,  which  he  caused  to  be  translated; 
and  in  the  same  way  with  the  humanities,  including  certain 
works  upon  grammar,  of  use  in  learning  L,atin.     The  Ortho- 


72  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE   ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE. 

graphy  of  Messer  Giovanni  Tortelle,  who  was  of  his  Holiness' 
household  and  worked  upon  the  library,  a  worthy  book  and 
useful  to  grammarians;  the  Iliad  of  Homer  ;  Strabo's  De 
situ  orbis  he  caused  to  be  translated  by  Guerrino,  and  gave 
him  500  florins  for  each  part,  that  is  to  say,  Asia,  Africa 
and  Europe;  that  was  in  all  1500  florins.  Herodotus  and 
Thucydides  he  had  translated  by  Lorenzo  Valla,  and  re- 
warded him  liberally  for  his  trouble;  Xenophon  and  Dio- 
dorus  by  Messer  Poggio;  Polybius  by  Nicolo  Perotto,  whom, 
when  he  handed  it  to  him,  he  gave  500  brand  new  papal 
ducats  in  a  purse,  and  said  to  him,  that  it  was  not  what  he 
deserved,  but  that  in  time  he  would  take  care  to  satisfy  him. 
The  work  of  Philo  the  Jew,  a  book  of  the  greatest  worth,  of 
which  the  Latin  tongue  had  as  yet  no  knowledge;  Theo- 
phrastus  De  Planlis,  a  most  able  work;  Problemata  Aristoleles; 
these  two  were  translated  by  Theodorus  the  Greek,  a  man 
of  great  learning  and  eloquence.  The  Republic  of  Plato 
and  his  Laws,  the  Posteriora,  the  Ethics  and  Physics, 
Magyia  Moralia,  and  Metaphysics,  the  Greater  Rhetoric, 
George  of  Trebisond.  De  A?ii??ialibus  of  Aristotle,  by  Theo- 
dorus, a  most  excellent  work.  Sacred  works,  the  works  of 
Dionysius  the  Areopagite,  an  admirable  book,  translated  by 
Brother  Ambrogio.  There  were  before  this  other  transla- 
tions utterly  barbarous.  I  was  told  by  pope  Nicholas  that 
this  translation  was  so  good,  that  one  got  a  better  idea  from 
the  simple  text  than  from  the  other  texts  accompanied  with 
elaborate  comments.  The  wonderful  book,  De  pr&paratiotie 
evangelica,  of  Eusebius  Pamphili,  a  work  of  great  erudition. 
Many  works  of  St.  Basil,  of  St.  Gregory  of  Nazianzus; 
Chrysostom  on  St.  Matthew,  about  eighty  homilies,  which 
had  been  lost  for  500  years  or  more;  for  twenty-five  homilies 
were  translated  by  Orosius  *  more  than  500  years  ago,  and 
the  work  was  much  sought  for  by  ancients  and  moderns; 
for  it  is  written,  that  St.  Thomas  Aquinas,  on  his  way  to 
Paris,  when,  as  he  was  approaching,  the  city  was  pointed  out 
to  him,   said:   "I  would  rather  at  this  moment  have  St. 

*  (?)  Oronzio  in  the  original. 


VESPASIANO   DA   BISTICCI.  73 

John  Chrysostom  on  St.  Matthew  than  Paris."  Such  a 
reputation  it  had!  This  was  translated  by  George  of 
Trebisond.  Cyril  on  Genesis,  and  on  St.  John,  excellent 
works.  Many  other  works  translated  and  composed  at  the 
desire  of  his  Holiness,  of  which  I  have  no  knowledge.  I 
have  mentioned  only  those  of  which  I  have  knowledge. 

From  Life  of  Frederick  of  Urbino. —  The  Ducal  Library. 

XXVIII.  Coming  to  the  holy  doctors,  who  are  in  Latin,  he 
wished  to  have  all  the  works  of  the  four  doctors  ;  and  what 
letters  !  what  books  !  and  how  excellent !  having  no  regard 
for  expense.  The  four  doctors  having  been  finished,  he  then 
desired  all  the  works  of  St.  Bernard,  and  all  the  holy  doctors 
of  antiquity;  he  desired  that  none  should  be  wanting:  Ter- 
tullian,  Hilary,  Remi,  Hugh  of  St.  Victor,  Isidore,  An- 
selm,  Rabanus  Maurus,  and  all  the  holy  doctors  of  antiquity 
that  have  ever  written.  Coming  from  the  Latins  to  the 
sacred  writers  of  the  Greeks,  which  are  converted  into  Latin, 
he  desired  in  Latin  the  works  of  Dionysius  the  Areopagite, 
of  St.  Basil,  Cyril,  Gregory  of  Nazianzus,  John  of  Damas- 
cus, John  Chrysostom,  Gregory  of  Nyssa,  Eusebius,  all  his 
works,  Ephraem  the  Monk,  the  most  excellent  writer  Origen. 
Coming  to  the  Latin  doctors,  as  well  in  philosophy  as  in 
theology,  all  the  works  of  St.  Thomas  Aquinas,  all  the 
works  of  Albertus  Magnus,  all  the  works  of  Alexander 
of  Hales,  all  the  works  of  Scotus,  all  the  works  of 
Bonaveutura,  the  works  of  Richard  of  Mediavilla;*  all  the 
works  of  the  Archbishop  Antoninus,  and  all  the  modern 
doctors  who  are  of  authority,  he  wished  to  have,  down  to 
the  Conformities  of  St.  Francis;  all  the  works  upon  civil 
law,  most  beautiful  texts  ;  all  the  lectures  of  Bartolo,  in 
kid-skin,  and  many  writers  in  civil  law.  The  Bible,  most 
excellent  book,  he  had  done  in  two  pictured  volumes,  as  rich 
and  fine  as  might  be  made,  covered  with  gold  brocade,  en- 
riched with  silver;  and  he  had  this  done  so  elegantty,  as  the 
the  first  of  all  writings.     And  all  the  commentaries,  those  of 

*  Richard  of  Bury  (?) 


74  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE   ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE. 

the  Master  of  the  Sentences,  of  Nicholas  de  Lyra,  and  all 
the  doctors  of  antiquity  who  have  written  commentaries,  as 
well  the  Latins  as  the  Greeks,  and  all  the  glossary  of  Nich- 
olas de  Lyra;  this  is  a  book  like  to  which  in  this  age  no 
other  has  been  made.  All  the  writers  on  astronomy  and 
their  commentaries  ;  all  the  works  on  geometry  with  com- 
mentaries; all  the  works  on  arithmetic;  all  the  works 
on  architecture,  all  the  works  De  re  militari,  all  books 
treating  of  the  machines  of  the  ancients  for  conquering  a 
country,  and  those  of  the  moderns,  which  was  a  very 
remarkable  volume.  Books  of  painting,  of  sculpture,  of 
music,  of  canon  law,  and  all  the  texts  and  lectures  and 
the  Summa  of  the  bishop  of  Ostia,  and  more  works  in 
this  department.  Speculum  imiocentice.  In  medicine  all  the 
works  of  Avicenna,  all  the  works  of  Hippocrates,  of  Galen, 
the  Continente  of  Almansor  plus  quam  commentum,  all  the 
works  of  Averroes,  both  on  logic  and  on  natural  and  moral 
philosophy.  A  book  of  all  the  ancient  councils;  all  the  works 
of  Boetius,  as  well  on  logic  as  on  philosophy  and  on  music. 

XXIX.  All  the  works  of  the  modern  writers,  commenc- 
ing with  pope  Pius.  He  has  all  the  works  of  Petrarch,  both 
Latin  and  vulgar ;  all  the  works  of  Dante,  Latin  and 
vulgar  ;  all  the  works  of  Boccaccio  in  Latin  ;  all  the  works 
of  messer  Coluccio  ;  all  the  works  of  messer  Leonardo  d' 
Arezzo,  both  original  and  translations  ;  all  the  works  of 
Brother  Ambrogio,  original  and  translations  ;  all  the  works 
of  messer  Gianozzo  Manetti,  as  well  original  as  translations  ; 
all  the  works  of  Guerrino,  original  and  translations  ;  all  the 
works  of  Panormita,  as  well  in  verse  as  in  prose ;  all  the 
works  of  messer  Francisco  Filelfo,  both  in  prose  and  in 
verse,  original  and  translations  ;  all  the  works  of  Perotti, 
translations  and  original  ;  all  the  works  of  Campano,  in 
prose  and  in  verse  ;  all  the  original  works  of  Maffeo  Vegio  ; 
all  the  works  of  Nicolo  Secondino,  translations  and  original, 
he  who  was  interpreter  for  the  Greeks  and  Latins  at  the 
council  of  the  Greeks  in  Florence ;  all  the  works  of  Ponta- 
nus,  original  and  translations  ;  all  the  works  of  Bartolomeo 
Fazi,  translations  and  original  ;  all  the  works  of  Gasparino  ; 


VESPASIANO   DA   BISTICCI.  75 

all  the  works  of  Pietro  Paulo  Vergerio,  original  and  transla- 
tions ;  all  the  works  of  messer  John  Argyropolus,  translated, 
that  is  :  the  whole  of  the  Philosophy  and  Logic  of  Aristotle, 
as  well  moral  as  natural,  except  the  Politics  ;  all  the  works 
of  messer  Francisco  Barbaro,  translations  and  original ;  all 
the  works  of  messer  Leonardo  Giustiniano,  both  original  and 
translations  ;  all  the  works  of  Donato  Acciaiuoli,  original 
and  translations ;  all  the  original  works  of  Alamanno 
Renuccini ;  all  the  original  works  of  messer  Cristofano  da 
Prato  Vecchio  ;  all  the  works  of  messer  Poggio,  both  trans- 
lations and  original ;  all  the  works  of  messer  Giovanni 
Tortella,  both  original  and  translations  ;  all  the  translations 
of  messer  Francesco  d'  Arezzo,  who  lived  at  the  court  of 
King  Ferrando  ;  all  the  works  of  Lorenzo  Valla,  translations 
and  original. 

XXX.  Having  acquired  all  the  books  of  every  depart- 
ment which  were  to  be  found,  written  both  by  ancient  and 
modern  doctors,  and  translations  as  well  in  every  branch,  he 
desired  to  have  all  the  Greek  books  that  were  to  be  found  ; 
all  the  works  of  Aristotle  in  Greek  ;  all  the  works  of  Plato, 
each  volume  bound  in  the  finest  kid-skin  ;  all  the  works  of 
Homer  in  one  volume,  the  Iliad,  the  Odyssey  and  the 
Batracomiomachia ;  all  the  works  of  Sophocles;  all  the 
works  of  Pindar ;  all  the  works  of  Menander ;  and  as  well 
all  the  poets  that  were  to  be  found  in  the  Greek  tongue  ;  all 
the  Lives  of  Plutarch,  in  one  most  excellent  volume  ;  the 
Cosmography  of  Ptolemy,  with  illustrations,  in  Greek,  a 
most  excellent  book  ;  all  the  moral  works  of  Plutarch,  a 
most  worthy  book  ;  all  the  works  of  Herodotus,  of  Pausa- 
nias,  of  Thucydides,  of  Polybius  ;  all  the  works  of  Demos- 
thenes and  of  Aeschines ;  Plotinus  the  philosopher,  all  his 
works;  all  the  commentaries  that  are  found  among  the 
Greeks,  as  for  example  the  commentaries  upon  Aristotle  ; 
all  the  works  of  Theophrastus,  the  Physica  de  plantis  ;  all  the 
Greek  lexicographers,  the  Greek  with  the  Latin  explana- 
tion ;  all  the  works  of  Hippocrates  and  of  Galen  ;  all  the 
works  of  Xenophon  ;  part  of  the  Bible  in  Greek  ;  all  the 
works  of  St.  Basil ;  all  the  works  of  St.  John  Chrysostom  ; 


76  SOURCE-BOOK    OP   THE    ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE. 

all  the  works  of  St.  Athanasius,  of  St.  John  of  Damascus  ; 
all  the  works  of  St.  Gregory  of  Nazianzus,  of  Gregory  of 
Nyssa,  of  Origen,  of  Dionysius  the  Areopagite,  of  John 
Climacus,  of  St.  Ephraem  the  Monk,  of  Aeneas  the  Sophist ; 
the  Collations  of  John  Cassianus,  the  Book  of  Paradise, 
Vitae  sandomm  pat  mm  ex  Aegypto  ;  the  Lives  of  Barlaam 
and  Josaphat ;  a  Psalter  in  three  tongues,  a  wonderful 
thing,  in  Hebrew,  Greek  and  Latin,  verse  for  verse,  a  most 
excellent  book  ;  all  the  books  on  geometry,  on  arithmetic, 
and  on  astronomy  that  are  found  in  any  language.  There 
are  numerous  Greek  books,  by  various  authors,  which  when 
he  was  not  able  to  get  them  otherwise,  he  sent  for  them, 
desiring  that  nothing  should  be  wanting  in  any  tongue 
which  it  was  possible  to  acquire.  There  were  to  be  seen 
Hebrew  books,  all  that  could  be  found  in  that  language,  be- 
ginning with  the  Bible,  and  all  those  who  have  commented 
upon  it,  rabbi  Moses,  and  other  commentators.  Not  only 
are  these  Hebrew  books  the  Holy  Scriptures,  but  also  on 
medicine,  on  philosophy  and  in  all  branches,  all  that  could 
be  acquired  in  that  tongue. 

XXXI.  His  Lordship  having  completed  this  worthy  task 
at  the  great  expense  of  more  than  30,000  ducats,  among  the 
other  excellent  and  praiseworthy  arrangements  which  he 
made  was  this,  that  he  undertook  to  give  to  each  writer  a 
title,  and  this  he  desired  should  be  covered  with  crimson  em- 
bellished with  silver.  He  began,  as  has  been  noted  above, 
with  the  Bible,  as  the  foremost  of  all,  and  had  it  covered,  as 
was  said,  with  gold  brocade.  Then  beginning  with  all  the 
doctors  of  the  Church,  he  had  each  one  covered  with  crim- 
son and  embellished  with  silver  ;  and  so  with  the  Greek 
doctors  as  well  as  with  the  Latins.  As  well  philosophy, 
history  and  books  on  medicine  and  all  the  modern  doctors; 
in  such  a  manner  that  there  are  innumerable  volumes  of 
this  kind,  a  thing  gorgeous  to  behold.  In  this  library  all 
the  books  are  beautiful  in  the  highest  degree,  all  written 
with  the  pen,  not  one  printed,  that  it  might  not  be  disgraced 
thereby;  all  elegantly  illuminated,  and  there  is  not  one  that 
is  not  written  on  kid-skin.     There  is  a  singular  thing  about 


VESPASIANO    DA    BISTICCI.  77 

this  library,  which  is  not  true  of  any  other;  and  this  is,  that 
of  all  the  writers,  sacred  as  well  as  profane,  original  works 
as  well  as  translations,  not  a  single  page  is  wanting  from 
their  works,  in  so  far  as  they  are  in  themselves  complete ; 
which  cannot  be  said  of  any  other  library,  all  of  which  have 
portions  of  the  works  of  a  writer,  but  not  all ;  and  it  is  a 
great  distinction  to  possess  such  perfection.  Some  time  be- 
fore I  went  to  Ferrara,  being  at  Urbiuo  at  his  Lordship's 
court,  and  having  catalogues  of  all  the  libraries  of  Italy, 
commencing  with  that  of  the  pope,  of  St.  Mark  at  Florence, 
of  Pavia, — and  I  had  even  sent  to  England  to  obtain  a  cata- 
logue of  the  library  of  the  university  of  Oxford, — I  compared 
these  with  that  of  the  duke,  and  I  saw  that  all  were  faulty 
in  one  particular;  that  they  had  numerous  copies  of  the  same 
work,  but  they  had  not  all  the  works  of  one  writer  complete 
as  this  had;  nor  were  there  writers  of  every  branch  as  in  this. 

From  the  Life  of  Cosimo  de1  Medici. — Founding  a  Library. 

XII.  When  he  had  finished  the  residence  and  a  good 
part  of  the  church,  he  fell  to  thinking  how  he  should  have 
the  place  peopled  with  honest  men  of  letters  ;  and  in  this 
way  it  occurred  to  him  to  found  a  fine  library  ;  and  one  day 
when  I  happened  to  be  present  in  his  chamber,  he  said  to 
me:  "  In  what  way  would  you  furnish  this  library?"  I 
replied  that  as  for  buying  the  books  it  would  be  impossible, 
for  they  were  not  to  be  had.  Then  he  said  :  "  How  is  it 
possible  then  to  furnish  it?"  I  told  him  that  it  would  be 
necessary  to  have  the  books  copied.  He  asked  in  reply  if  I 
would  be  willing  to  undertake  the  task.  I  answered  him, 
that  I  was  willing.  He  told  me  to  commence  my  work  and 
he  would  leave  everything  to  me  ;  and  as  for  the  money 
that  would  be  necessary  he  would  refer  the  matter  to  Don 
Archangel,  then  prior  of  the  monastery,  who  would  draw 
bills  upon  the  bank,  which  should  be  paid.  The  library 
was  commenced  at  once,  for  it  was  his  pleasure  that  it 
should  be  done  with  the  utmost  possible  celerity;  and  as  I 
did  not  lack  for  money  I  collected  in  a  short  time  forty -five 
writers,  and  finished  200  volumes  in  twenty-two  months;  in 


78  SOURCK-BOOK    OF   THE    ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE. 

which  work  we  made  use  of  an  excellent  arrangement,  that 
of  the  library  of  pope  Nicholas,  which  he  had  given  to 
Cosimo,  in  the  form  of  a  catalogue  made  out  with  his  own 
hands. 

XIII.  Coming  to  the  arrangement  of  the  library,  in  the 
first  place  there  is  the  Bible  and  the  Concordance,  with  all 
their  commentaries,  as  well  ancient  as  modern.  And  the 
first  writer  who  commenced  to  comment  on  the  Holy 
Scriptures,  and  who  indicated  the  manner  of  commenting 
to  all  the  others,  was  Origen  ;  he  wrote  in  Greek,  and  St. 
Jerome  translated  a  part  of  his  works,  on  the  five  books  of 
Moses.  These  are  the  works  of  St.  Ignatius  the  martyr, 
who  wrote  in  Greek,  and  was  a  disciple  of  St.  John  the 
Evangelist ;  most  fervent  in  his  Christian  zeal,  he  wrote  and 
preached  and  for  this  won  the  crown  of  martyrdom.  There 
are  the  works  of  St.  Basil,  bishop  of  Cappadocia,  a  Greek  ; 
of  St.  Gregory  of  Nazianzus,  of  Gregory  of  Nyssa,  his 
brother,  of  St.  John  Chrysostom,  of  St.  Athanasius  of 
Alexandria,  of  St.  Ephraem  the  Monk,  of  John  Climacus, 
also  a  Greek ;  all  the  works  of  the  Greek  doctors  that  are 
translated  into  Latin  are  there.  Then  follow  the  holy 
doctors  and  holy  writers  in  Latin,  beginning  with  the  works 
of  Lactantius,  who  was  very  ancient  and  had  praiseworthy 
qualifications  ;  Hilary  of  Poitou,  a  most  solemn  doctor  ;  St. 
Cyprian  of  Carthage,  most  elegant  and  saintly  ;  the  works 
of  Tertullian,  the  learned  Carthaginian.  Then  follow  the 
four  doctors  of  the  Latin  church,  and  all  their  works  are 
here  ;  and  there  is  no  other  library  that  has  these  works 
complete.  Then  begin  the  works  of  St.  Jerome ;  all  the 
works  of  St.  Gregory,  the  moral  doctor ;  all  the  works  of 
St.  Bernard  the  Abbot,  of  Hugh  of  St.  Victor,  of  St.  Anselm, 
of  St.  Isidore,  bishop  of  Seville,  of  Bede,  of  Rabanus  Maurus. 
Coming  then  to  the  modern  doctors,  of  St.  Thomas  Aquinas, 
of  Albert  Magnus,  of  Alexander  of  Hales,  of  St.  Bonaven- 
tura  ;  the  works  of  the  Archbishop  Antonino  of  Florence, 
that  is,  his  Stimma. 

XIV.  Coming  to  the  philosophers,  all  the  works  of  Aris- 
totle, both  his  moral  and  natural  Philosophy;  all  the  com- 


VESPASIANO   DA   BISTICCI.  79 

mentaries  of  St.  Thomas  and  Albertus  Magnus  on  the  phil- 
osophy of  Aristotle,  and  still  other  commentators  upon  the 
same;  his  Logic  and  other  modern  systems  of  Logic.  In 
canon  law,  the  Decretum,  the  Decretals,  Liber  Sexius,  the 
Clementines,  the  Summa  of  the  bishop  of  Ostia;  Innoceutius; 
Lectures  of  the  bishop  of  Ostia  on  the  Decretals;  Giovanni 
Andrea,  on  Liber  Sextus,  and  an  anonymous  lecture  on  the 
Decretum,  and  still  other  works  on  canon  law  by  the  abbott 
of  Cicilia  and  others.  Of  histories,  all  the  Ten  of  Livy ; 
Caesar's  Commentaries;  Suetonius  Tranquillus,  The  Lives 
of  the  Emperors;  Plutarch's  Lives;  Quiutus  Curtius,  the 
Deeds  of  Alexander  the  Great;  Sallust,  De  bello  Jugurthino 
et  Catilinario ;  Valerius  Maximus,  The  Memorable  Deeds 
and  Sayings  of  the  Ancients;  Emilius  Probus,  Great  Leaders 
of  Foreign  Peoples;  a  history  by  Ser  Zembino,  who  com- 
menced at  the  beginning  of  the  world,  and  came  down  to  pope 
Celestine,  a  work  of  great  information;  the  Ecclesiastical 
History  of  Eusebius  Pamphili,  and  De  temporibus ;  the  His- 
toriale  of  Vincenzo;  all  the  works  of  Tully  in  three  volumes; 
all  the  works  of  Seneca  in  one  volume;  Quintilian,  De  insti- 
tutione  oratoria,  and  the  Declamations;  Vocabulista  ;  Nonius 
Marcellus;  Pompeius  Festus;  the  Elegantiaeoi  Valla;  Papias; 
Uguccione ;  Catholicon.  Poets :  Virgil,  Terence,  Ovid, 
Lucan,  Statius,  the  tragedies  of  Seneca,  Plautus.  Of  gram- 
marians, Priscian.  And  all  the  other  works  necessary  to  a 
library,  of  which  no  one  was  wanting;  and  since  there  were 
not  copies  of  all  these  works  in  Florence,  we  sent  to  Milan, 
to  Bologna  and  to  other  places,  wherever  they  might  be 
found.  Cosimo  lived  to  see  the  library  wholly  completed, 
and  the  cataloguing  and  the  arranging  of  the  books;  in  all 
of  which  he  took  great  pleasure,  and  the  work  went  forward, 
as  was  his  custom,  with  great  promptness. 


80  SOURCE-BOOK  OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

LORENZO  DE'  MEDICI. 

Born  at  Florence,  1449.  Studied  under  the  guidance  of  Ficino  and 
other  literati  of  the  Medicaean  court.  Assumed  chief  political  power 
at  age  of  twenty-one,  upon  the  occasion  of  the  death  of  his  father, 
Piero,  and  ruled  until  his  death  in  1492.  Obtained  from  Pope  Inno- 
cent VIII.  that  his  son  Giovanni  (afterwards  Leo  X.,  b.  1475-d.  1521) 
was  made  Cardinal  at  the  age  of  fourteen.  Participated  actively  in 
the  literary  labors  of  the  distinguished  group  of  men,  whose  protector 
and  support  he  was.     His  most  important  productions  were  in  verse. 

Lorenzo  de'  Medici  to  Giovanni  de'  Medici,  Cardinal  * 
You,  and  all  of  us  who  are  interested  in  your  welfare, 
ought  to  esteem  ourselves  highly  favored  by  Providence, 
not  only  for  the  many  honours  and  benefits  bestowed  upon 
our  house,  but  more  particularly  for  having  conferred  upon 
us,  in  your  person,  the  greatest  dignity  we  have  ever  en- 
joyed. This  favor,  in  itself  so  important,  is  rendered  still 
more  so  by  the  circumstances  with  which  it  is  accompanied, 
and  especially  by  the  consideration  of  your  youth  and  of  our 
situation  in  the  world.  The  first  that  I  would  therefore 
suggest  to  you  is  that  you  ought  to  be  grateful  to  God,  and 
continually  to  recollect  that  it  is  not  through  your  merits, 
your  prudence,  or  your  solicitude,  that  this  event  has  taken 
place,  but  through  his  favour,  which  you  can  only  repay  by 
a  pious,  chaste  and  exemplary  life  ;  and  that  your  obliga- 
tions to  the  performance  of  these  duties  are  so  much  the 
greater,  as  in  your  early  years  you  have  given  some  reason- 
able expectations  that  your  riper  age  may  produce  such 
fruits.  It  would  indeed  be  highly  disgraceful,  and  as  con- 
trary to  your  duty  as  to  my  hopes,  if,  at  a  time  when  others 
display  a  greater  share  of  reason  and  adopt  a  better  mode  of 
life,  you  should  forget  the  precepts  of  your  youth,  and  for- 
sake the  path  in  which  you  have  hitherto  trodden.  Endeavor 
therefore  to  alleviate  the  burthen  of  your  early  dignity  by  the 
regularity  of  your  life  and  by  your  perseverance  in  those 
studies  which  are  suitable  to  your  profession.  It  gave  me 
great  satisfaction  to  learn,  that,  in  the  course  of  the  past 

*  From  Roscoe's  Life  of  Lorenzo  de'  Medici. 


LORENZO   DE'    MEDICI.  8 1 

year,  you  had  frequently,  of  your  own  accord,  gone  to  com- 
munion and  confession  ;  nor  do  I  conceive  that  there  is  any 
better  way  of  obtaining  the  favor  of  heaven  than  by  habitu- 
ating yourself  to  a  performance  of  these  and  similar  duties. 
This  appears  to  me  to  be  the  most  suitable  and  useful 
advice  which,  in  the  first  instance,  I  can  possibly  give  you. 

I  well  know,  that  as  you  are  now  to  reside  at  Rome,  that 
sink  of  all  iniquity,  the  difficulty  of  conducting  yourself  by 
these  admonitions  will  be  increased.  The  influence  of  ex- 
ample is  itself  prevalent;  but  you  will  probably  meet  with 
those  who  will  particularly  endeavor  to  corrupt  and  incite 
you  to  vice;  because,  as  you  may  yourself  perceive,  your 
early  attainment  to  so  great  a  dignity  is  not  observed  with- 
out envy,  and  those  who  could  not  prevent  your  receiving 
that  honour  will  secretly  endeavor  to  diminish  it,  by  induc- 
ing you  to  forfeit  the  good  estimation  of  the  public;  thereby 
precipitating  you  into  that  gulf  into  which  they  had  them- 
selves fallen;  in  which  attempt,  the  consideration  of  your 
youth  will  give  them  a  confidence  of  success.  To  these  diffi- 
culties you  ought  to  oppose  yourself  with  the  greater  firm- 
ness, as  there  is  at  present  less  virtue  amongst  your  breth- 
ren of  the  college.  I  acknowledge  indeed  that  several  of 
them  are  good  and  learned  men,  whose  lives  are  exemplary, 
and  whom  I  would  recommend  to  you  as  patterns  of  your 
conduct.  By  emulating  them  you  will  be  so  much  the  more 
known  and  esteemed,  in  proportion  as  your  age  and  the  pe- 
culiarity of  your  situation  will  distinguish  you  from  your 
colleagues.  Avoid,  however,  as  you  would  Scylla  or  Cha- 
rybdis,  the  imputation  of  hypocrisy;  guard  against  all  osten- 
tation, either  in  your  conduct  or  your  discourse;  affect  not 
austerity,  nor  even  appear  too  serious.  This  advice,  you 
will,  I  hope,  in  time  understand  and  practice  better  than  I 
can  express  it. 

Yet  you  are  not  unacquainted  with  the  great  importance 
of  the  character  which  you  have  to  sustain,  for  you  well 
know  that  all  the  Christian  world  would  prosper  if  the  cardi- 
nals were  what  they  ought  to  be;  because  in  such  a  case 
there  would  always  be  a  good  pope,  upon  which  the  tran- 


82  SOURCE-BOOK   OP  THE    ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE. 

quility  of  Christendom  so  materially  depends.  Endeavor 
then  to  render  yourself  such,  that  if  all  the  rest  resembled 
you,  we  might  expect  this  universal  blessing.  To  give  you 
particular  directions  as  to  your  behaviour  and  conversation 
would  be  a  matter  of  no  small  difficulty.  I  shall  therefore 
only  recommend,  that  in  your  intercourse  with  the  cardinals 
and  other  men  of  rank,  your  language  be  unassuming  and 
respectful,  guiding  yourself,  however,  by  your  own  reason, 
and  not  submitting  to  be  impelled  by  the  passions  of  others, 
who,  actuated  by  improper  motives,  may  pervert  the  use  of 
their  reasons.  L,et  it  satisfy  your  conscience  that  your  con- 
versation is  without  intentional  offence;  and  if,  through  im- 
petuosity of  temper,  any  one  should  be  offended,  as  his  en- 
mity is  without  just  cause,  so  it  will  not  be  very  lasting.  On 
this  your  first  visit  to  Rome,  it  will  however  be  more  advisa- 
ble for  you  to  listen  to  others  than  to  speak  much  yourself. 

You  are  now  devoted  to  God  and  the  church:  on  which 
account  you  ought  to  aim  at  being  a  good  ecclesiastic,  and 
to  shew  that  you  prefer  the  honor  and  state  of  the  church 
and  of  the  apostolic  see  to  every  other  consideration.  Nor, 
while  you  keep  this  in  view,  will  it  be  difficult  for  you  to 
favour  3'our  family  and  your  native  place.  On  the  contrary, 
you  should  be  the  link  to  bind  this  city  closer  to  the  church, 
and  our  family  with  the  city;  and  although  it  be  impossible  to 
foresee  what  accidents  may  happen,  yet  I  doubt  not  but  this 
may  be  done  with  equal  advantage  to  all;  observing,  how- 
ever, that  you  are  always  to  prefer  the  interests  of  the  church. 

You  are  not  only  the  youngest  cardinal  in  the  college,  but 
the  youngest  person  that  ever  was  raised  to  that  rank;  and 
you  ought  therefore  to  be  the  most  vigilant  and  unassuming, 
not  giving  others  occasion  to  wait  for  you,  either  in  the 
chapel,  the  consistory  or  upon  deputations.  You  will  soon 
get  a  sufficient  insight  into  the  manners  of  your  brethren. 
With  those  of  less  respectable  character  converse  not  with 
too  much  intimacy;  not  merely  on  account  of  the  circum- 
stance in  itself,  but  for  the  sake  of  public  opinion.  Con- 
verse on  general  topics  with  all.  On  public  occasions  let 
your  equipage  and  address  be  rather  below  than  above  med- 


LORENZO   DE'    MEDICI.  83 

iocrity.  A  handsome  house  and  a  well-ordered  family  will 
be  preferable  to  a  great  retinue  and  a  splendid  residence. 
Endeavor  to  live  with  regularity,  and  gradually  to  bring 
your  expenses  within  those  bounds  which  in  a  new  establish- 
ment cannot  perhaps  be  expected.  Silk  and  jewels  are  not 
suitable  for  persons  in  your  station.  Your  taste  will  be 
better  shewn  in  the  acquisition  of  a  few  elegant  remains  of 
antiquity,  or  in  the  collecting  of  handsome  books,  and  by 
your  attendants  being  learned  and  well-bred  rather  than  nu- 
merous. Invite  others  to  your  house  oftener  than  you  re- 
ceive invitations.  Practise  neither  too  frequently.  Let 
your  own  food  be  plain,  and  take  sufficient  exercise,  for 
those  who  wear  your  habit  are  soon  liable,  without  great 
caution,  to  contract  infirmities.  The  station  of  a  cardinal  is 
not  less  secure  than  elevated;  on  which  account  those  who 
arrive  at  it  too  frequently  become  negligent;  conceiving  their 
object  is  attained  and  that  they  can  preserve  it  with  little 
trouble.  This  idea  is  often  injurious  to  the  life  and  charac- 
ter of  those  who  entertain  it.  Be  attentive  therefore  to  your 
conduct,  and  confide  in  others  too  little  rather  than  too  much. 
There  is  one  rule  which  I  would  recommend  to  your  atten- 
tion in  preference  to  all  others.  Rise  early  in  the  morning. 
This  will  not  only  contribute  to  your  health,  but  will  enable 
you  to  arrange  and  expedite  the  business  of  the  day;  and  as 
there  are  various  duties  incident  to  your  station,  such  as  the 
performance  of  divine  service,  studying,  giving  audience, 
and  so  forth,  you  will  find  the  observance  of  this  admonition 
productive  of  the  greatest  utility.  Another  very  necessary 
precaution,  particularly  on  your  entrance  into  public  life, 
is  to  deliberate  every  evening  on  what  you  may  have  to  per- 
form the  following  day,  that  you  may  not  be  unprepared  for 
whatever  may  happen.  With  respect  to  your  speaking  in 
the  consistory,  it  will  be  most  becoming  for  you  at  present  to 
refer  the  matters  in  debate  to  the  judgment  of  his  holiness, 
alleging  as  a  reason  your  own  youth  and  inexperience.  You 
will  probably  be  desired  to  intercede  for  the  favours  of  the 
pope  on  particular  occasions.  Be  cautious,  however,  that  you 
trouble  him  not  too  often;  for  his  temper  leads  him  to  be 


84  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

most  liberal  to  those  who  weary  him  least  with  their  solici- 
tations. This  you  must  observe,  lest  you  should  give  him 
offence,  remembering  also  at  times  to  converse  with  him  on 
more  agreeable  topics;  and  if  you  should  be  obliged  to 
request  some  kindness  from  him,  let  it  be  done  with  that 
modesty  and  humility  which  are  so  pleasing  to  his  disposi- 
tion.    Farewell. 

NICOLU  MACHIAVELLI. 

Born  at  Florence,  1469.  Entered  at  the  age  of  twenty-nine  into  the 
service  of  the  Signory.  Was  prominent  in  the  affairs  of  the  republic, 
after  the  banishment  of  the  Medici,  until  their  return  in  1512.  Driven 
from  Florence,  he  retired  to  his  patrimony  near  San  Casciano,  and  de- 
voted himself  to  literary  work.  Resumed  his  official  career  under 
Clement  VII.  Died,  1527.  His  greater  works  are  the  Prince,  the 
History  of  Florence,  the  Discourses  on  Livy  and  a  treatise  on  the  Art 
of  War. 

SELECTIONS  FROM  THE  PRINCE.* 

Chapter  XVIII.     How  far  a  Prifice  is  obliged  by  his  Promise. 

How  honorable  it  is  for  a  prince  to  keep  his  word,  and  act 
rather  with  integrity  than  collusion,  I  suppose  everybody 
understands :  nevertheless  experience  has  shown  in  our 
times  that  those  princes  who  have  not  pinned  themselves  up 
to  that  punctuality  and  preciseness  have  done  great  things, 
and  by  their  cunning  and  subtilty  not  only  circumvented, 
and  darted  the  brains  of  those  with  whom  they  had  to  deal, 
but  have  overcome  and  been  too  hard  for  those  who  have 
been  so  superstitiously  exact.  For  further  explanation  you 
must  understand  there  are  two  ways  of  contending,  by  law 
and  by  force :  the  first  is  proper  to  men  ;  the  second  to 
beasts  ;  but  because  many  times  the  first  is  insufficient,  re- 
course must  be  had  to  the  second.  It  belongs,  therefore,  to 
a  prince  to  understand  both,  when  to  make  use  of  the 
rational  and  when  of  the  brutal  way  ;  and  this  is  recom- 
mended to  princes,   though  abstrusely,  by  ancient  writers, 

*Morley's  edition  in  the  Universal  Librae,  in  which  the  reading 
of  the  folio  of  1674  has  been  reproduced. 


NICOI.6   MACHIAVEIXI.  85 

who  tell  them  how  Achilles  and  several  other  princes  were 
committed  to  the  education  of  Chiron  the  Centaur,  who  was 
to  keep  them  under  his  discipline,  choosing  them  a  master, 
half  man  and  half  beast,  for  no  other  reason  but  to  show 
how  necessary  it  is  for  a  prince  to  be  acquainted  with  both, 
for  that  one  without  the  other  will  be  of  little  duration. 
Seeing,  therefore,  it  is  of  such  importance  to  a  prince  to  take 
upon  him  the  nature  and  disposition  of  a  beast,  of  all  the 
whole  flock  he  ought  to  imitate  the  lion  and  the  fox ;  for 
the  lion  is  in  danger  of  toils  and  snares,  and  the  fox  of  the 
wolf ;  so  that  he  must  be  a  fox  to  find  out  the  snares,  and  a 
lion  to  fright  away  the  wolves,  but  they  who  keep  wholly 
to  the  lion  have  no  true  notion  of  themselves.  A  prince, 
therefore,  who  is  wise  and  prudent,  cannot  or  ought  not  to 
keep  his  parole,  when  the  keeping  of  it  is  to  his  prejudice, 
and  the  causes  for  which  he  promised  removed.  Were  men 
all  good  this  doctrine  was  not  to  be  taught,  but  because 
they  are  wicked  and  not  likely  to  be  punctual  with  you,  you 
are  not  obliged  to  any  such  strictness  with  them  ;  nor  was 
there  ever  any  prince  that  wanted  lawful  pretence  to  justify 
his  breach  of  promise.  I  might  instance  in  many  modern 
examples,  and  show  how  many  confederations,  and  peaces, 
and  promises  have  been  broken  by  the  infidelity  of  princes, 
and  how  he  that  best  personated  the  fox  had  the  better  suc- 
cess. Nevertheless,  it  is  of  great  consequence  to  disguise 
your  inclination,  and  to  play  the  hypocrite  well ;  and  men 
are  so  simple  in  their  temper  and  so  submissive  to  their 
present  necessities,  that  he  that  is  neat  and  cleanly  in  his 
collusions  shall  never  want  people  to  practice  them  upon. 
I  cannot  forbear  one  example  which  is  still  fresh  in  our 
memory.  Alexander  VI.  never  did,  nor  thought  of,  any- 
thing but  cheating,  and  never  wanted  matter  to  work  upon  ; 
and  though  no  man  promised  a  thing  with  greater  assevera- 
tion, nor  confirmed  it  with  more  oaths  and  imprecations, 
and  observed  them  less,  yet  understanding  the  world  well  he 
never  miscarried. 

A  prince,  therefore,  is  not  obliged  to  have  all  the  fore- 
mentioned  good  qualities  in  reality,  but  it  is  necessary  to 


86  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE   ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE. 

have  them  in  appearance:  nay,  I  will  be  bold  to  affirm  that, 
having  them  actually,  and  employing  them  upon  all  occa- 
sions, they  are  extremely  prejudicial,  whereas,  having  them 
only  in  appearance,  they  turn  to  better  account;  it  is  honor- 
able to  seem  mild,  and  merciful,  and  courteous,  and  religious, 
and  sincere,  and  indeed  to  be  so,  provided  your  mind  be  so 
rectified  and  prepared  that  you  can  act  quite  contrary  upon 
occasion.  And  this  must  be  premised,  that  a  prince,  espec- 
ially if  come  but  lately  to  the  throne,  cannot  observe  all  those 
things  exactly  which  make  men  be  esteemed  virtuous,  being 
often  necessitated,  for  the  preservation  of  his  State,  to  do 
things  inhuman,  uncharitable,  and  irreligious;  and,  there- 
fore, it  is  convenient  his  mind  be  at  his  command,  and  flexi- 
ble to  all  the  puffs  and  variations  of  fortune;  not  forbearing 
to  be  good  whilst  it  is  in  his  choice,  but  knowing  how  to  be 
evil  when  there  is  a  necessity.  A  prince,  then,  is  to  have 
particular  care  that  nothing  falls  from  his  mouth  but  what 
is  full  of  the  five  qualities  aforesaid,  and  that  to  see  and  to 
hear  him  he  appears  all  goodness,  integrity,  humanity,  and 
religion,  which  last  he  ought  to  pretend  to  more  than 
ordinarily,  because  more  men  do  judge  by  the  eye  than  by 
the  touch  ;  for  everybody  sees,  but  few  understand  ;  every- 
body sees  how  you  appear,  but  few  know  what  in  reality 
you  are,  and  those  few  dare  not  oppose  the  opinion  of  the 
multitude,  who  have  the  majesty  of  their  prince  to  defend 
them;  and  in  the  actions  of  all  men,  especially  princes, 
where  no  man  has  power  to  judge,  every  one  looks  to  the 
end.  Let  a  prince,  therefore,  do  what  he  can  to  preserve  his 
life  and  continue  his  supremacy,  the  means  which  he  uses 
shall  be  thought  honorable,  and  be  commended  by  every- 
body; because  the  people  are  always  taken  with  the  appear- 
ance and  event  of  things,  and  the  greatest  part  of  the  world 
consists  of  the  people;  those  few  who  are  wise  taking  place 
when  the  multitude  has  nothing  else  to  rely  upon.  There  is 
a  prince  at  this  time  in  being  (but  his  name  I  shall  conceal) 
who  has  nothing  in  his  mouth  but  fidelity  and  peace;  and 
yet  had  he  exercised  either  the  one  or  the  other,  they  had 
robbed  him  before  this  of  both  his  power  and  reputation. 


NICOLO   MACHIAVEUJ.  87 

Chapter  XXVI.     An  Exhortation  to  Deliver  Italy  from  the 
Barbarians. 

Having  weighed,   therefore,   all  that  is  said  before,   and 
considered  seriously  with  myself  whether  in  this  juncture  of 
affairs  in  Italy  the  times  were  disposed  for  the  advancement 
of  a  new  prince,  and  whether  there  was  competent  matter 
that  could  give  occasion  to  a  virtuous  and  wise  person  to  in- 
troduce such  a  form  as  would  bring  reputation  to  him  and 
benefit  to  all  his  subjects,  it  seems  to  me  that  at  this  present 
so  many  things  concur  to  the  exaltation  of  a  new  prince  that 
I  do  not  know  any  time  that  has  been  more  proper  than  this; 
and  if,  as  I  said  before,  for  the  manifestation  of  the  courage 
of  Moses  it  was  necessary  that  the  Israelites  should  be  cap- 
tives in  Egypt;  for  discovery  of  the  magnimimity  of  Cyrus, 
that  the  Persians  should  be  oppressed  by  the  Medes;  and  for 
the  illustration  of  the  excellence  of  Theseus  that  the  Athen- 
ians should  be  banished  and  dispersed;  so  to  evince  and  dem- 
onstrate the  courage  of  an  Italian  spirit  it  was  necessary  that 
Italy  should  be  reduced  to  its  present  condition;  that  it  should 
be  in  greater  bondage  than  the  Jews,  in  greater  servitude  than 
the  Persians,  and  in  greater  dispersion  than  the  Athenians  ; 
without  head,  without  order,  harassed,  spoiled,  overcome, 
overrun,   and   overflown   with  all   kinds  of  calamity  ;   and 
though  formerly  some  sparks  of  virtue  have  appeared  in 
some  persons  that  might  give  it  hopes  that  God  had  or- 
dained them  for  its  redemption,  yet  it  was  found  afterwards 
that   in  the  very  height  and  career  of  their  exploits  they 
were  checked  and  forsaken  by  fortune,  and  poor  Italy  left 
half  dead,  expecting  who  would  be  her  Samaritan  to  bind 
up  her  wounds,  put  an  end  to  the  sackings  and  devastations 
in  Lombardy,  the  taxes  and  expilations  in  the  kingdom  of 
Naples  and  Tuscany,  and  cure  her  sores  which  length  of 
time  had  festered  and  imposthumated.     It  is  manifest  how 
she  prays  to  God  daily  to  send  some  person  who  may  redeem 
her  from  the  cruelty  and  insolence  of  the  barbarians.     It  is 
manifest  how  prone  and  ready  she  is  to  follow  the  banner 
that  any  man  will  take  up  ;  nor  is  it  at  present  to  be  dis- 


88  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

cernecb  where  she  can  repose  her  hopes  with  more  proba- 
bility than  in  your  illustrious  family,*  which  by  its  own 
courage  and  interest  and  the  favor  of  God  and  the  Church 
(of  which  it  is  now  chief),  may  be  induced  to  make  itself 
head  in  her  redemption  ;  which  will  be  no  hard  matter  to  be 
effected  if  you  lay  before  you  the  lives  and  actions  of  the 
persons  above  named ;  who  though  they  were  rare  and 
wonderful  were  yet  but  men,  and  not  accommodated  with  so 
fair  circumstances  as  you.  Their  enterprise  was  not  more 
just  nor  easy,  nor  God  Almighty  more  their  friend  than 
yours.  You  have  justice  on  your  side  ;  for  that  war  is  just 
which  is  necessary,  and  it  is  piety  to  fight  where  no  hope  is 
left  in  anything  else.  The  people  are  universally  disposed, 
and  where  the  disposition  is  so  great  the  opposition  can  be 
but  small,  especially  you  taking  your  rules  from  those  per- 
sons which  I  have  proposed  to  you  for  a  model. 

Besides,  many  things  that  they  did  were  supernatural, 
and  by  God's  immediate  conduct  the  sea  opened,  a  cloud 
directed,  a  rock  afforded  water,  it  rained  manna  ;  all  these 
things  are  recompensed  in  your  grandeur,  and  the  rest  re- 
mains to  be  executed  by  you.  God  will  not  do  everything 
immediately,  because  He  will  not  deprive  us  of  our  free  will 
and  the  honour  that  devolves  upon  us.  Nor  is  it  any 
wonder  if  none  of  the  aforenamed  Italians  have  been  able  to 
do  that  which  may  be  hoped  for  from  your  illustrious 
family  ;  and  if  in  so  many  revolutions  in  Italy,  and  so  long 
continuation  of  war,  their  military  virtue  seems  spent  and 
extinguished,  the  reason  is,  their  old  discipline  was  not 
good,  and  nobody  was  able  to  direct  a  better.  Nothing 
makes  so  much  to  the  honour  of  a  new  prince  as  new  laws 
and  new  orders  invented  by  him,  which,  if  they  be  well 
founded,  and  carry  anything  of  grandeur  along  with  them, 
do  render  him  venerable  and  wonderful  ;  and  Italy  is  sus- 
ceptible enough  of  any  new  form.  Their  courage  is  great 
enough  in  the  soldier  if  it  be  not  wanting  in  the  officer ; 
witness  the  duels  and  combats,  in  which  the  Italians  have 

*  "The  Prince  "  was  addressed  to  Lorenzo,  son  of  Piero  de'  Medici. 


NICOLO  MACHIAVELU.  89 

generally  the  better  by  their  force  and  dexterity  and  strata- 
gem ;  but  come  to  their  battles,  and  they  have  often  the 
worse,  and  all  from  the  inexperience  of  their  commanders ; 
for  those  who  pretend  to  have  skill  will  never  obey,  and 
every  one  thinks  he  has  skill,  there  having  been  nobody  to 
this  very  day  raised  by  his  virtue  and  fortune  to  that  height 
of  reputation  as  to  prevail  with  others  to  obey  him.  Hence 
it  came  that,  in  so  long  time,  in  the  many  wars  during  the 
last  twenty  years,  whenever  an  army  consisted  wholly  of 
Italians  it  was  certain  to  be  beaten  ;  and  this  may  be  testi- 
fied by  Tarus,  Alexandria,  Capua,  Genoa,  Vaila,  Bologna, 
and  Mestri.  If  therefore,  your  illustrious  family  be  inclined 
to  follow  the  examples  of  those  excellent  persons  who  re- 
deemed their  countries,  it  is  necessary,  as  a  true  funda- 
mental of  all  great  enterprises,  to  provide  yourselves  with 
forces  of  your  own  subjects,  for  you  cannot  have  more  faith- 
ful nor  better  soldiers  than  they.  And  though  all  of  them 
be  good,  yet  altogether  they  will  be  much  better  when  they 
find  themselves  not  only  commanded,  but  preferred  and 
caressed  by  a  prince  of  their  own.  It  is  necessary,  there- 
fore, to  be  furnished  with  these  forces  before  you  can  be 
able  with  Italian  virtue  to  vindicate  your  country  from  the 
oppression  of  strangers.  And  though  the  Swiss  and  Spanish 
infantry  be  counted  terrible,  they  have  both  of  them  their 
defects  ;  and  a  third  sort  may  be  composed  that  may  not 
only  encounter  but  be  confident  to  beat  them  ;  for  the 
Spanish  foot  cannot  deal  with  horse,  and  the  Swiss  are  not 
invincible  when  they  meet  with  foot  as  obstinate  as  them- 
selves. It  has  been  seen  by  experience,  and  would  be  so 
again,  the  Spaniards  cannot  sustain  the  fury  of  the  French 
cavalry,  and  the  Swiss  have  been  overthrown  by  the  infantry 
of  Spain.  And  though  of  this  last  we  have  seen  no  perfect 
experiment,  yet  we  had  a  competent  essay  at  the  battle  of 
Ravenna,  where  the  Spanish  foot  being  engaged  with  the 
German  battalions  (which  observe  the  same  order  and  dis- 
cipline as  the  Swiss),  the  Spaniards,  by  the  agility  of  their 
bodies  and  the  protection  of  their  bucklers,  broke  in  under 
their  pikes  and  killed  them  securely,  while  the  poor  Ger- 


90  SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

mans  were  incapable  to  defend  themselves  ;  and  had  not  the 
Spaniards  been  charged  by  the  horse,  the  German  foot  had 
been  certainly  cut  off.     It  is  possible,  therefore,  the  defect 
of  both  those  foot  being  known,  to  institute  a  third  which 
may  buckle  with  the  horse  and  be  in  no  fear  of  their  foot  ; 
which  will  be  effected  not  by  the  variation  of  their  arms, 
but  by  changing  their  discipline.     And  these  are  some  01 
those   things   which,    being   newly    reformed,    give    great 
grandeur  and  reputation  to  any  new  prince.     This  oppor- 
tunity, therefore,  is  by  no  means  to  be  slipped,  that  Italy, 
after  so  long   expectation,    may  see  some  hopes  of  deliver- 
ance.    Nor  can  it  be  expressed  with  what  joy,  with  what 
impatience  of  revenge,  with  what  fidelity,  with  what  com- 
passion, with  what  tears  such  a  champion  would  be  received 
into  all  the  provinces  that  have  suffered  by  those  barbarous 
inundations.      What   gates   would   be   shut   against   him? 
What  people   would  deny   him  obedience?      What  malice 
would  oppose  him  ?     What  true  Italian  would  refuse  to  fol- 
low him  ?     There  is  not  anybody  but  abhors  and  nauseates 
this  barbarous  domination.      L,et  }rour   illustrious  family, 
then,  address  itself  to  the  work  with  as  much  courage  and 
confidence  as  just  enterprises  are  undertaken  ;  that  under 
their  ensigns   our   country   may  be  recovered,   and  under 
their  conduct   Petrarch's  prophecy  may   be  fulfilled,   who 
promised  that — 

Virtu  contra  furore 

Prenderd  Varme,  e  fid1 1  combatier  corto  : 

Che  Vantico  valore 

NegV Italici  cor  non  <?  ancor  morto. 

Virtue  shall  arm  'gainst  rage,  and  in  short  fight 
Prove  the  Romcrn  valour  's  not  extinguished  quite. 


BAI.DASSARE   CASTIGUONE.  91 

BALDASSARE  CASTIGLIONE. 

Born  at  Casatico,  near  Mantua,  1478,  and  educated  at  Milan.  Was 
one  of  the  most  distinguished  diplomats  of  his  time,  taking  service 
first  under  Ludovico  Sforza,  duke  of  Milan,  later  with  the  dukes 
of  Urbino,  and  in  1524  was  sent  to  Spain,  to  arrange  a  dispute  be- 
tween Clement  VII.  and  Charles  V.  His  mission  was  unsuccessful; 
but  he  remained  in  Spain,  was  made  bishop  of  Avila,  and  died  at 
Toledo  in  1529. 

EXTRACTS   FROM  THE   COURTIER.* 

Letters  Not  Beneath  the  Notice  of  a  Courtier. 

But  besides  goodnesse  the  true  and  principall  ornament  of 
the  minde  in  every  man  (I  believe)  are  letters,  although  ye 
Frenchmen  know  onely  the  nobleness  of  amies,  and  passe  for 
nothing  beside:  so  that  they  not  only  doe  not  set  by  letters, 
but  they  rather  abhorre  them,  and  all  learned  men  they  doe 
count  very  rascalles,  and  they  think  it  a  great  villany  when 
any  one  of  them  is  called  a  clarke. 

Then  answered  the  Lord  Magnifico,  you  say  very  true, 
this  error  in  deed  hath  longe  raigned  among  the  Frenchmen, 
But  if  Monseigneur  de  Angoulesme  have  so  good  luck  that 
he  may  (as  men  hope)  succeede  in  the  Crowne,  the  glory  of 
arms  in  France  doth  not  so  florish  nor  is  had  in  such  estima- 
tion, as  letters  will  be,  I  believe. 

For  it  is  not  long  sins  I  was  in  France,  and  saw  this  Prince 
in  the  Court  there,  who  seemed  unto  mee  beside  the  hand- 
somnesse  of  person  and  bewtie  of  visage,  to  have  in  his 
countenance  so  great  a  maiestie,  accompanied  nevertheless 
with  a  certaine  lovely  courtesie,  that  the  realme  of  France 
shoulde  ever  seeme  unto  him  a  small  matter. 

I  understood  afterwarde  by  many  gentlemen  both  French 
and  Italian,  very  much  of  the  most  noble  conditions,  of  the 
greatness  of  courage,  prowesse  and  liberalitie  that  was  in 
him:  and  among  other  things,   it  was  tolde  me,   that  hee 

*  The  Courtier  of  Count  Baldesar  Castilio,  devided  into  foure  Bookes, 
verie  necessarie  and  profitable  for  young  Gentlemen  and  Gentle 
women  abiding  in  Court,  Pallace  or  Place,  done  into  English  by 
Thomas  Hobby,  London,  Printed  by  John  Wolfe,  1588. 


92  SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE    ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

highly  loved  and  esteemed  letters,  and  had  in  very  great 
reputation  all  learned  men,  and  blamed  the  Frenchmen  them- 
selves that  their  mindes  were  so  far  wide  from  this  profession, 
especially  having  at  their  doores  so  noble  an  universitie  as 
Paris  is,  where  all  the  world  resorteth. 

Then  spake  the  Count:  It  is  great  wonder  that  in  these 
tender  yeares,  onely  by  the  provocation  of  nature,  contrarie 
to  the  manner  of  the  countrie,  he  hath  given  him  self  to  so 
good  a  way.  And  because  subiectes  follow  alwaies  the  con- 
ditions of  the  higher  powers,  it  is  possible  that  it  may  come 
to  passe  (as  you  say)  that  ye  Frenchmen  will  yet  esteeme 
letters  to  be  of  that  dignitie  that  they  are  in  deede.  The 
which  (if  they  will  give  eare  thereto)  they  may  soone  bee 
perswaded. 

Forsomuch  as  men  ought  to  covet  of  nature  nothing  so 
much,  and  nothing  is  more  proper  for  them,  than  knowledge: 
which  thing  it  were  a  great  folly  to  say  or  to  holde  opinion 
that  it  is  not  alwaies  good. 

And  in  case  I  might  commune  with  them,  or  with  other 
that  were  of  a  contrary  opinion  to  me,  I  would  doe  my  dili- 
gence to  shew  them,  how  much  letters  (wThich  undoubtedlye 
have  beene  granted  of  God  unto  men  for  a  soveraigne  gift) 
are  profitable  and  necessarie  for  our  life  and  estimation. 
Neither  should  I  want  the  examples  of  so  many  excellent 
captaines  of  old  time,  which  all  ioyned  the  ornament  of 
letters  with  prowesse  of  armes. 

For  (as  you  know)  Alexander  had  Homer  in  such  rever- 
ence, that  he  laide  his  Ilias  alwaies  under  his  beds  heade: 
and  he  applied  diligently  not  these  studies  onely,  but  also 
the  Speculations  of  Philosophy  under  the  discipline  of  Aris- 
totle. 

Alcibiades  increased  his  good  conditions  and  made  them 
greater  with  letters,  and  with  the  instructions  of  Socrates. 

Also  what  diligence  Cesar  used  in  studies,  those  thinges 
which  he  had  so  divinelye  writen  him  selfe,  make  triall. 

It  is  saide  that  Scipio  Affricanus  carried  alwaies  in  his 
hand  the  bookes  of  Xenophon,  wherein  under  the  name  of 
Cyrus  he  instructeth  a  perfect  King. 


BALDASSARE   CASTIGLIONE.  93 

I  coulde  recite  unto  you  L,ucullus,  Sylla,  Pompeius,  Brutus, 
and  many  other  Romanes  and  Grecians,  but  I  woulde  doe  no 
more  but  make  mention  of  Hannibal,  which  being  so  ex- 
cellent a  Captaine  (yet  for  all  that  of  a  fierce  nature  and 
voide  of  all  humanity,  an  untrue  dealer,  and  a  despiser  of 
men  and  of  the  Gods)  had  also  understanding  in  letters,  and 
the  knowledge  of  the  greeke  tongue. 

And  if  I  be  not  deceived  (I  trow)  I  have  redde  in  my  time, 
that  he  left  a  booke  behinde  him  of  his  own  making  in  the 
Greeke  tongue.  But  this  kinde  of  talke  is  more  than  needeth : 
for  I  knowe  all  you  understand  how  much  the  Frenchmen  be 
deceived  in  holding  opinion  letters  to  doe  any  hurt  to  armes. 

You  know  in  great  matters  and  adventures  in  wars  the 
true  provocation  is  glory:  and  who  so  for  lucres  sake  or  for 
any  other  consideration  taketh  it  in  hande  (beside  that  hee 
never  doth  any  thing  worthie  prayse)  deserveth  not  the  name 
of  a  gentleman,  but  is  a  most  vile  marchant. 

And  every  man  may  conceive  it  to  be  true  glory,  that  is 
stored  up  in  the  holy  treasure  of  letters,  except  such  un- 
luckie  creatures  as  have  no  taste  thereof. 

What  minde  is  so  faiute,  so  bashfull,  and  of  so  base  a 
courage,  that  in  reading  the  actes  and  greatnes  of  Cesar, 
Alexander,  Scipio,  Annibal,  and  so  many  other,  is  not  in- 
censed with  a  most  fervent  longing  to  be  like  them:  and  doth 
not  preferre  the  getting  of  that  perpetuall  fame,  before  the 
rotten  life  that  lasteth  two  days  ?  Which  in  despite  of  death 
maketh  him  live  a  great  deale  more  famous  than  before. 

But  he  that  savoureth  not  the  sweetness  of  letters,  can  not 
know  how  much  is  the  greatness  of  glory,  which  is  a  long 
while  preserved  by  them,  and  onely  measureth  it  with  the 
age  of  one  or  two  men,  for  further  be  beareth  not  in  minde. 
Therefore  can  he  not  esteeme  this  short  glory  so  much  as  he 
would  doe  that,  which  (in  a  manner)  is  everlasting,  if  by  his 
ill  happe  hee  were  not  barred  from  the  knowledge  of  it.  And 
not  passing  upon  it  so  much,  reason  perswadeth,  and  a  man 
may  well  believe  hee  will  never  hazard  himselfe  so  much  to 
come  by  it,  as  hee  that  knoweth  it. 

I  woulde  not  now  some  one  of  the  contrarie  parte  should 


94  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

alledge  unto  mee  the  contrarie  effects  to  confute  mine  opinion 
with  all:  and  tell  mee  how  the  Italians  with  their  knowledge 
of  letters  have  shewed  small  prowesse  in  armes  from  a  cer- 
taine  time  hetherto,  the  which  nevertheless  is  too  true:  but 
in  very  deed  a  man  may  well  say  that  the  offence  of  a  few, 
hath  brought  (beside  the  great  damage)  an  everlasting  re- 
proach unto  all  other,  and  the  verie  cause  of  our  confusion, 
and  of  the  neglecting  of  Vertue  in  our  mindes  (if  it  bee  not 
cleane  deade)  proceeded  of  them.  But  it  were  a  more  shame- 
full  matter  unto  us  to  publish  it,  than  unto  the  Frenchmen 
the  ignorance  in  letters. 

Therefore  it  is  better  to  passe  that  over  with  silence  that 
cannot  bee  rehearsed  without  Sorrow,  and  leaving  this  pur- 
pose into  the  which  I  am  entred  against  my  wil,  returne 
againe  unto  our  Courtier,  whom  in  letters  I  will  have  to  be 
more  than  indifferently  well  seene,  at  the  least  in  those 
studies,  which  they  call  Humanitie  and  to  have  not  onely  the 
understanding  of  the  Latin  tongue,  but  also  of  the  greek, 
because  of  the  many  and  sundrie  things  that  with  great  ex- 
cellencie  are  written  in  it. 

Let  him  much  exercise  him  selfe  in  Poets,  and  no  lesse  in 
Oratours  and  Historiographers,  and  also  in  writing  both  rime 
and  prose,  and  especially  in  this  our  vulgar  tongue.  For 
beside  the  contentation  that  hee  shall  receive  thereb}r  him 
selfe,  hee  shall  by  this  meanes  never  want  pleasant  inter- 
tainements  with  women  which  ordinarily  love  such  matters. 

And  if  by  reason  either  of  his  other  businesses  besides,  or 
of  his  slender  studie  hee  shall  not  attaine  unto  that  per- 
fection that  his  writings  may  bee  worthy  much  commenda- 
tion, let  him  bee  circumspect  in  keeping  them  close,  least  he 
make  other  men  to  laugh  at  him.  Onely  hee  may  shew 
them  to  a  friende  whom  he  may  trust. 

For  at  least  wise  hee  shall  receive  so  much  profit,  that  by 
that  exercise  hee  shall  be  able  to  give  his  iudgement  upon 
other  men's  doings.  For  it  happeneth  very  seldome,  that 
a  man  not  exercised  in  writing,  how  learned  soever  he  be, 
can  at  any  time  know  perfectly  the  labour  and  toile  of 
writers,  or  tast  of  the  sweetnesse  and  excellence}^  of  styles, 


BALDASSARE   CASTIGUONE.  95 

and  those  inner  observations  that  often  times  are  founde  in 
them  of  olde  time. 

And  besides  that,  those  studies  shal  make  him  copious, 
and  (as  Anstippus  answered  a  Tirant)  bold  to  speake  upon  a 
good  ground  with  every  man. 

Notwithstanding  I  will  have  our  Courtier  to  keepe  fast  in 
his  minde  one  lesson,  and  that  is  this,  to  bee  alwaies  warie 
both  in  this  and  in  everie  other  point,  and  rather  fearefull 
than  bolde,  and  beware  that  hee  perswade  not  himself  falsly, 
to  know  the  thing  hee  knoweth  not  in  deede. 

Because  we  are  of  nature  all  the  sort  of  us  much  more 
greedy  of  praise  than  is  requisite,  and  better  do  our  eares 
love  the  melodie  of  wordes  sounding  to  our  praise,  than  any 
other  song  or  sound  that  is  most  sweete.  And  therefore 
many  times  like  the  voyces  of  marmaidens,  they  are  the 
cause  of  drowning  of  him  that  doth  not  well  stoppehis  eares 
at  such  deceitful  harmony. 

This  danger  being  perceived,  there  hath  beene  among  the 
auncient  wise  men  that  have  writen  bookes,  how  a  man 
should  knowe  a  true  friend  from  a  flatterer.  But  what 
availeth  it  ?  If  there  bee  many  of  them  (or  rather  infinite) 
that  manifestly  perceive  they  are  flattered,  and  yet  love  him 
that  flattereth  them,  and  hate  him  that  telleth  them  the 
troth. 

And  oftentimes  (standing  in  opinion  that  he  that  pra}'seth 
them  is  too  scarce  in  his  wordes)  they  them  selves  helpe  him 
forwarde,  and  utter  such  matters  of  themselves,  that  the 
most  impudent  flatterer  of  all  is  ashamed  of. 

Let  us  leave  these  blinde  buzzards  in  their  owne  errour, 
and  make  our  Courtier  of  so  good  a  iudgement,  that  he  will 
not  bee  given  to  understand  blacke  for  white,  nor  presume 
more  of  himselfe  than  what  he  knoweth  very  manifestly  to 
be  true,  and  especially  in  those  thinges,  which  (if  yee  beare 
well  in  minde)  the  Lorde  Cesar  rehearsed  in  his  devise  of 
pastimes,  that  we  have  many  times  used  for  an  instrument 
to  make  many  become  foolish.  But  rather  that  he  may  be 
assured  not  to  fall  into  any  error,  where  he  knoweth  those 
prayses  that  are  given  him  to  be  true,  let  him  not  so  openly 


96  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

consent  to  them,  nor  confirme  them  so  without  resistance, 
but  rather  with  modestie  (in  a  manner)  deny  them  cleane, 
shewing  alwaies  and  counting  in  effect,  armes  to  bee  his  prin- 
cipall  profession,  and  all  the  other  good  qualities  for  an 
ornament  thereof. 

And  principally  among  Souldiers,  least  hee  bee  like  unto 
them  that  in  learning  will  seeme  men  of  warre,  and  among 
men  of  warre,  learned. 

The  Perfect  Courtier. 

But  to  come  to  some  particularitie,  I  iudge  the  principall 
and  true  profession  of  a  Courtier  ought  to  bee  in  feates  of 
armes,  the  which  above  all  I  will  have  him  to  practise  lively, 
and  to  bee  knowne  among  other  of  his  hardines,  for  his 
atchieving  of  enterprises,  and  for  his  fidelitie  towarde  him 
whom  he  serveth.  And  he  shall  purchase  himselfe  a  name 
with  these  good  conditions,  in  doing  the  deedes  in  every 
time  and  place,  for  it  is  not  for  him  to  fainte  at  any  time  in 
this  behalfe  without  a  wondrous  reproach. 

And  even  as  in  women  honestie  once  stained  doth  never 
returne  againe  to  the  former  estate:  so  the  fame  of  a  gentle- 
man that  carrieth  weapon,  if  it  once  take  a  soyle  in  anye 
litle  point  through  dastardlinesse  or  any  other  reproach,  doth 
evermore  continue  shamefull  in  the  world  and  full  of  ignor- 
ance. 

Therefore  the  more  excellent  our  Courtier  shall  be  in  this 
arte,  the  more  shall  he  be  worthie  praise:  albeit  I  judge  not 
necessarie  in  him  so  perfect  a  knowledge  of  things  and  other 
qualities  that  is  requisite  in  a  Captaine.  But  because  this  is 
overlarge  a  scope  of  matters,  we  wil  holde  our  selves  con- 
tented, as  wee  have  saide,  with  the  uprightnesse  of  a  well 
meaning  mind,  and  with  an  invincible  courage,  and  that  he 
alwaies  shew  himself  such  a  one. 

For  many  times  men  of  courage  are  sooner  knowne  in 
small  matters  than  in  great.  Often  times  in  dangers  that 
stand  them  upon,  and  where  many  eyes  be,  ye  shall  see  some 
that  for  all  their  hart  is  dead  in  their  bodie,  yet  pricked  with 
shame  or  with  the  company,  goe  forwarde,  as  it  were,  blind- 


BALDASSARE   CASTIGLIONE.  97 

field  and  doe  their  duetie.  And  God  knoweth  both  in 
matters  that  little  touch  them,  and  also  where  they  suppose 
that  without  missing  they  may  convey  them  selves  from 
danger,  how  they  are  willing  inough  to  sleepe  in  a  whole 
skinne. 

But  such  as  think  themselves  neither  marked,  seene,  nor 
knowne,  and  yet  declare  a  stoute  courage,  and  suffer  not  the 
least  thing  in  the  world  to  passe  that  may  burthen  them, 
they  have  that  courage  of  spirite  which  we  seeke  to  have  in 
our  Courtier.  Yet  will  wee  not  have  him  for  all  that  so 
lustie  to  make  braverie  in  wordes,  and  to  bragge  that  he 
hath  wedded  his  harnes  for  a  wife,  and  to  threaten  with  such 
grimme  lookes,  as  we  have  seen  Berto  do  often  times. 

For  unto  such  may  wee  be  said,  that  a  worthie  gentle 
woman  in  a  noble  assemblie  spake  pleasantly  unto  one,  that 
shall  bee  namelesse  for  this  time,  whom  she  to  shew  him  a 
good  countenance,  desired  to  daunce  with  her,  and  hee  re- 
fusing it,  and  to  heare  musicke,  and  many  other  entertain- 
ments offered  him,  alwaies  affirming  such  trifles  not  to  be 
his  profession,  at  last  the  gentle  woman  demanding  him, 
what  is  then  your  profession  ?  he  answered  with  a  frowning 
look,  to  fight. 

Then  saide  the  gentle  woman:  seeing  you  are  not  now  at 
the  warre  nor  in  place  to  fight,  I  would  think  it  best  for  you 
to  bee  well  besmered  and  set  up  in  an  armory  with  other  im- 
plements of  warre  till  time  were  that  you  should  be  occupied, 
least  you  ware  more  rustier  than  you  are.  Thus  with  much 
laughing  of  the  standers  by,  she  left  him  with  a  mocke  in  his 
foolish  presumption. 

The  ende  therefore  of  a  perfect  Courtier  (whereof  hetherto 
nothing  hath  beene  spoken)  I  believe  is  to  purchase  him,  by 
the  nieane  of  the  qualities  which  these  L,ordes  have  given 
him,  in  such  wise  the  good  will  and  favour  of  the  Prince  he 
is  in  service  withall,  that  he  may  breake  his  minde  to  him, 
and  alwaies  euforme  him  franckly  of  the  truth  of  every 
matter  meete  for  him  to  understand,  without  feare  or  perill 
to  displease  him.  And  when  hee  knoweth  his  minde  is  bent 
to  commit  any  thing  unseemely  for  him,  to  be  bold  to  stand 


98  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

with  him  in  it,  and  to  take  courage  after  an  honest  sorte  at 
the  favor  which  he  hath  gotten  him  through  his  good  quali- 
ties, to  diswade  him  from  every  ill  purpose,  and  to  set  him 
in  the  way  of  vertue.  And  so  shall  the  Courtier,  if  he  have 
the  goodnesse  in  him  that  these  L,ordes  have  given  him  ac- 
companied with  readinesse  of  wit,  pleasantnesse,  wisedom, 
knowledge  in  letters,  and  so  many  other  thinges,  understand 
how  to  behave  himself  readily  in  all  occurrents  to  drive  into 
his  Prince's  heade  what  honour  and  profit  shall  ensue  to 
him  and  to  his  by  iustice,  liberallitie,  valiantness  of  courage, 
meekeness,  and  by  the  other  vertues  that  belong  to  a  good 
prince,  and  contrariwise  what  slander  and  damage  commeth 
of  the  vices  contrarie  to  them. 

And  therefore  in  mine  opinion,  as  musicke,  sportes, 
pastimes,  and  other  pleasant  fashions,  are  (as  a  man  would 
say)  the  floure  of  courtlinesse,  even  so  is  the  training  and 
helping  forwarde  of  the  Prince  to  goodnesse,  and  the  fearing 
him  from  evil,  the  fruite  of  it. 

And  because  the  prayses  of  well  doing  consisteth  chiefly 
in  two  pointes,  whereof  the  one  is,  in  choosing  out  an  end 
that  our  purpose  is  directed  unto,  that  is  good  in  deede,  the 
other,  the  knowledge  to  finde  out  apt  and  meete  meanes  to 
bring  it  to  the  appointed  good  ende  :  sure  it  is  that  the 
minde  of  him  which  thinketh  to  worke  so,  that  his  Prince 
shall  not  bee  deceived,  nor  lead  with  flatterers,  railers,  and 
lyers,  but  shall  know  both  the  good  and  the  bad,  and  beare 
love  to  the  one,  and  hatred  to  the  other,  is  directed  to  a  verie 
good  end. 

Me  thinke  againe,  that  the  qualities  which  these  L,ords 
have  given  the  Courtier,  may  bee  a  good  means  to  compasse 
it ;  and  that,  because  among  many  vices  that  we  see  now  a 
dayes  in  many  of  our  Princes,  the  greatest  are  ignorance  and 
selfe  liking. 

And  the  roote  of  these  two  mischiefes  is  nothing  els  but 
lying,  which  vice  is  worthely  abhorred  of  God  and  man,  and 
more  hurtfull  to  Princes  than  any  other,  because  they  have 
more  scarsitie  than  of  any  thing  els,  of  that  which  they 
neede  to  have  more  pleiitie  of,  than  of  any  thing  ;  namely, 


BALDASSARE  CASTIGLIONJE.  99 

of  such  as  should  tell  them  the  truth,  and  put  them  in  mind 
of  goodnesse  :  for  enimies  be  not  driven  of  love  to  doe  these 
offices,  but  they  delight  rather  to  have  them  live  wickedly 
and  never  to  amend  :  on  the  other  side,  they  dare  not  rebuke 
them  openly  for  feare  they  be  punished. 

Music. 

Then  saide  the  Lord  Gasper  Pallavicin.  There  are  many 
sortes  of  musike,  as  well  in  the  brest  as  upon  instruments, 
therefore  would  I  gladly  learne  which  is  the  best,  and  at 
what  time  the  Courtier  ought  to  practise  it. 

Me  thinke  then  answered  Sir  Fredericke,  prick-song  is  a 
faire  musicke,  so  it  be  done  upon  the  booke  surely  and  after 
a  good  sorte.  But  to  sing  to  the  lute  is  much  better,  be- 
cause all  the  sweetnes  consisteth  in  one  alone,  and  a  man  is 
much  more  heedfull  and  understandeth  better  the  feat,  man- 
ner and  the  aire  of  veyne  of  it,  when  the  eares  are  not  busied 
in  hearing  any  moe  than  one  voice  :  and  beside  every  little 
error  is  soone  perceived,  which  happeneth  not  in  singing 
with  company,  for  one  beareth  out  the  other. 

But  singing  to  the  lute  with  the  dittie  (me  thinke)  is  more 
pleasant  than  the  rest,  for  it  addeth  to  the  wordes  such  a 
grace  and  strength,  that  it  is  a  great  wonder. 

Also  all  Instrumentes  with  Freats  are  full  of  harmony, 
because  the  tunes  of  them  are  very  perfect,  and  with  ease  a 
man  may  doe  many  thinges  upon  them  that  fill  the  mind 
with  sweetnesse  of  musicke. 

And  the  musicke  with  a  sette  of  Violes  doth  no  lesse 
delite  a  man:  for  it  is  very  sweet  and  artificiall. 

A  mans  brest  giveth  a  great  ornament  and  grace  to  all 
these  instruments,  in  the  which  I  will  have  it  sufficient  that 
our  Courtier  have  an  understanding.  Yet,  the  more  cun- 
ninger  he  is  upon  them,  the  better  it  is  for  him,  without 
medling  much  with  the  instruments  that  Minerva  and 
Alcibiades  refused,  because  it  seemeth  they  are  noysome. 

Now  as  touching  the  time  and  season  when  these  sortes 
of  musicke  are  to  bee  practised:  I  believe  at  all  times  when 
a  man  is  in  familiar  and  loving  company,  having  nothing 


IOO        SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE    ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

else  adoe.  But  especially  they  are  raeete  to  be  practised  in 
the  presence  of  women,  because  those  sights  sweeten  the 
mindes  of  the  hearers,  and  make  them  the  more  apt  to  bee 
pierced  with  the  pleasantnesse  of  musicke,  and  also  they 
quicken  the  spirits  of  the  very  doers. 

I  am  well  pleased  (as  I  have  saide)  they  flee  the  multi- 
tude, and  especially  the  unnoble. 

But  the  seasoning  of  the  whole  must  be  discretion,  be- 
cause in  effect  it  were  a  matter  impossible  to  imagine  all 
cases  that  fall.  And  if  the  Courtier  bee  a  righteous  iudge 
of  him  selfe,  hee  shall  apply  him  selfe  well  inough  to  the 
time,  and  shall  discerne  when  the  hearers  minds  are  dis- 
posed to  give  eare  and  when  they  are  not.  He  shall  know 
his  age,  for  (to  say  the  truth)  it  were  no  meete  matter,  but 
an  ill  sight  to  see  a  man  of  any  estimation  being  old,  hore- 
headed  and  toothlesse,  full  of  wrinkles,  with  a  lute  in  his 
armes  playing  upon  it,  and  singing  in  the  middest  of  a  com- 
pany of  women,  although  he  coulde  doe  it  reasonably  well. 
And  that  because  such  songes  containe  in  them  wordes  of 
love,  and  in  olde  men  love  is  a  thing  to  be  iested  at:  al- 
though otherwhile  he  seemeth  among  other  miracles  of  his 
to  take  delite  in  spite  of  yeares  to  set  a  fire  frosen  heartes. 

Then  answered  the  Lord  Julian  :  doe  you  not  barre  poore 
olde  men  from  this  pleasure  (Sir  Fredericke)  for  in  my  time 
I  have  knowne  men  of  yeares  have  very  perfect  brestes  and 
most  nimble  fingers  for  instruments,  much  more  than  some 
yong  men. 

I  goe  not  about  (quoth  Sir  Fredericke)  to  barre  old  men 
from  this  pleasure,  but  I  wil  barre  you  and  these  Ladies 
from  laughing  at  that  follie. 

And  in  case  olde  men  will  sing  to  the  lute,  let  them  do  it 
secretly,  and  onely  to  rid  their  minds  of  those  troublesome 
cares  and  grievous  disquieting  that  our  life  is  full  of  :  and  to 
taste  of  that  excellencie  which  I  believe  Pythagoras  and 
Socrates  savoured  in  musicke. 

And  set  case  they  exercise  it  not  at  all  :  for  they 
have  gotten  a  certaine  habite  and  custome  of  it,  they  shall 
savour  it  much  better  in   hearing,  than   he   that   hath   no 


BALDASSARE   CASTIGLIONE.  IOI 

knowledge  in  it :  For  like  as  the  armes  of  a  Smith  that 
is  weake  in  other  things,  because  they  are  more  exercised, 
bee  stronger  than  an  other  bodies  that  is  sturdie,  but 
not  exercised  to  worke  with  his  arms:  even  so  the  armes 
that  be  exercised  in  musicke,  doe  much  better  and  sooner 
discerne  it,  and  with  much  more  pleasure  iudge  of  it, 
than  other,  how  good  and  quicke  soever  they  be  that  have 
not  beene  practised  in  ye  variety  of  pleasant  musicke  :  be- 
cause those  musical  tunes  pearce  not,  but  without  leaving 
any  tast  of  themselves  passe  by  ye  eares  not  accustomed  to 
here  them,  although  the  verie  wilde  beastes  feele  some 
delite  in  melodie. 

This  is  therefore  the  pleasure  meete  for  olde  men  to  take 
in  musicke. 

The  selfe  same  I  say  of  daunsing,  for  in  deede  these  ex- 
ercises ought  to  be  left  off  before  age  constraineth  us  to  leave 
them  whether  we  will  or  no. 

It  is  better  then,  answered  here  M.  Morello,  halfe  chafed, 
to  except  all  old  men,  and  to  say  that  onely  yong  men  are  to 
be  called  Courtiers. 

Then  laughed  Sir  Fredericke  and  saide  :  Note  (maister 
Morello)  whether  such  as  delite  in  these  matters,  if  they  bee 
not  yong  men,  doe  not  strive  to  appear  young,  and  there- 
fore dye  their  haire  and  make  their  bearde  grow  twice  a 
weeke,  and  this  proceedeth  upon  that  nature  saith  to  them 
in  secrete,  that  these  matters  are  not  comely  but  for  yong 
men. 

All  these  Ladies  laughed,  because  they  knewe  these 
wordes  touched  maister  Morello,  and  he  seemed  somwhat 
out  of  patience  at  the  matter. 


102         SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE   ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE. 

MA TTEO  BANDELLO. 

Born  at  Castelnuova,  near  Tortona,  circa  1480.  Entered  the  church 
and  resided  at  Mantua,  as  tutor  in  the  family  of  Gonzaga.  The  battle 
of  Pavia  caused  him  to  leave  Lombardy,  and  he  made  his  way  to 
France.  Made  bishop  of  Agen  in  1550,  where  he  resided  for  some 
years  before  his  death  in  1562.    The  Novels  are  his  chief  literary  work. 

Bandello  to  the  Reverend  Doctor  in  Theology  Fra  Cristo/oro  Bandello, 
Administrator  of  the  Order  of  the  Minor  Brethren  in  the  Province  of 
Genoa.* 

If  Pope  Leo  X.  had,  whenas  first  Martin  Luther  began  to 
spread  abroad  the  pestilent  venom  of  his  heresies,  lent  a  fav- 
orable ear  to  the  Master  of  the  Sacred  Palace,  it  had  been  an 
easy  matter  to  quench  those  nascent  flames,  which  have 
since  waxed  to  such  a  height  that,  except  God  put  hand 
thereto,  the)'  are  more  like  to  increase  than  abate.  And 
certes  meknoweth  not  what  spirit  was  this  of  Luther's, 
which  so  many  admire,  as  if  he  were  a  profound  dialectitian, 
an  ingenious  philosopher  and  a  profound  theologian,  he  hav- 
ing in  all  his  various  idle  devisings  adduced  no  single  plaus- 
ible argument  of  his  own  invention,  but  having  only  tricked 
out  anew  the  false  opinions  condemned  and  reproved  by  so 
many  Councils-general  and  ultimately  by  that  of  Constance. 
The  following  he  hath  cometh  from  no  otherwhat  than  that 
he  and  his  followers  open  the  way  to  a  licentious  and  wanton 
way  of  living.  In  truth,  he  is  to  be  blamed  and  there  should 
be  no  audience  given  to  his  fables,  which  are  all  void  of  true 
foundation.  Algates,  I  cannot  deny  that  the  lewd  life  of 
many  churchmen  is  a  cause  of  scandal  to  unstable  minds, 
but  it  behoveth  us  not  therefor  to  fall  away  from  the  faith  of 
our  forefathers.  Moreover,  those  indiscreet  and  ignorant 
friars  (whom  we  wot  of)  should,  when  they  are  in  the  pulpit, 
take  good  heed  lest  they  say  ought  to  the  people  which  may 
give  rise  to  scandal  and  not  (whereas  they  ought  to  incite 
their  hearers  to  devoutness)  provoke  them  to  indecent  laugh- 

*  The  novels  of  Matteo  Bandello,  Bishop  of  Agen ;  now  first  done  into 
English  prose  and  verse  by  John  Payne.  London,  1890:  printed  for 
the  Villon  Society. 


MATTEO   BANDEU.O.  103 

ter,  the  which  nowadays  bringeth  the  things  of  the  faith  into 
little  esteem.  I  am  not  presently  concerned  to  speak  of  the 
follies  which  idiots  oftentimes  say  in  the  pulpit,  but  will 
speak  of  those  who  follow  indiscreetly  after  certain  fables 
which  bring  preachments  into  derision,  as  it  befel  Fra  Ber- 
nardino da  Peltro  in  Pavia,  according  to  that  which  I 
heard  one  day  told  of  Fra  Filippo  da  San  Columbano,  a 
minor  Brother  of  the  Franciscan  Order,  who,  being  in  com- 
pany of  certain  gentlemen  at  their  place  of  the  Garden  in 
Milan,  related  the  thing  for  their  diversion,  as  it  happened 
in  the  days  when  he  was  a  student  of  the  law  at  Pavia,  and 
for  that  it  is  a  thing  to  be  noted,  I  have  chosen  to  send  and 
give  it  to  you,  so  that,  we  being  of  one  blood,  you  may  eke 
be  a  sharer  in  my  novels.     Fare  you  well. 

THE   SIXTH   STORY. 

Fra  Bernardino  da  Peltro,  seeking  to  set  St.  Francis  over  all  the  other 
saints,  is  confounded  by  a  student. 

You  must  know,  sirs,  that  when  I  was  a  student  and 
abode  at  Pavia  to  learn  the  civil  law,  Fra  Bernardino  da 
Peltro,  a  man  of  exceeding  consideration  in  our  order, 
preached  a  whole  year  long  in  the  Cathedral  Church  of 
Pavia  to  as  great  a  concourse  as  was  ever  seen  in  that  city. 
He  had  preached  the  foregone  year  at  Brescia,  where  he  had 
let  publicly  burn  in  the  market-place  the  false  tresses  which 
the  women  wore  on  their  heads,  to  enhance  their  native 
beauty,  and  other  like  womanish  vanities.  Moreover,  he  let 
burn  all  such  copies  of  Martial's  Epigrams  as  were  in  the 
city,  and  did  many  other  things  worthy  of  memory.  Now, 
being  in  the  pulpit  at  Pavia  on  the  feast  day  of  our  Seraphic 
Father  St.  Francis,  he  entered,  in  the  presence  of  a  great 
concourse  of  people,  upon  discourse  of  the  many  virtues  of 
that  saint,  and  having  descanted  thereon  at  large  and  re- 
counted store  of  miracles  by  him  wroughten  in  his  life  and 
after  his  death,  he  bestowed  on  him  all  those  praises,  excel- 
lences and  dignities  which  behoved  unto  the  sanctity  of  so 
glorious  a  father,  and  having,  by  most  effectual  arguments, 
authorities  and  examples,  proved  that  he  was  full  of  all  the 


104         SOURCE-BOOK    OF  THE    ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE. 

Christian  graces  and  was  altogether  serafic  and  afire  with 
charity,  he  kindled  into  an  exceeding  fervor  and  said, 
"What  seat  now  shall  we  assign  thee  in  heaven,  holiest 
father  mine  ?  Where  shall  we  set  thee,  O  vessel  full  of  every 
grace?  What  place  shall  we  find  apt  unto  such  sanctity  ?" 
Then,  beginning  with  the  virgins,  he  ascended  to  the  con- 
fessors, the  martyrs,  the  apostles,  to  Saint  John  Baptist  and 
other  prophets  and  patriarchs,  still  avouching  that  St. 
Francis  merited  a  more  honored  place  than  they;  after  which, 
raising  his  voice,  he  went  on  to  say,  "O  saint  most  truly 
glorious,  thou,  whom  thy  most  godly  gifts  and  singular 
merits  and  the  conformity  of  thy  life  unto  Christ  exalt  and 
uplift  over  all  the  other  saints,  what  place  shall  we  find  sort- 
ing with  such  excellence!  Tell  me,  my  brethren,  where 
shall  we  set  him  ?  Tell  me,  you,  gentlemen  students,  who 
are  of  exalted  understanding,  where  shall  we  place  this  most 
holy  saint?"  Whereupon  Messer  Paolo  Taegio,  then  a 
student  of  laws  and  nowadays  a  very  famous  doctor  in  Milan, 
who  was  seated  on  a  stool  over  against  the  pulpit,  being 
weary  of  the  friar's  useless  and  indiscreet  babble  and  belike 
misdoubting  him  he  meant  to  put  St.  Francis  above  or  at 
least  on  a  level  with  the  Holy  Trinity,  rose  to  his  feet  and 
uplifting  his  settle  with  both  hands,  said  so  loudly  that  he 
was  heard  of  all  the  people,  "  Father  mine,  for  God's  sake, 
give  yourself  no  more  pains  to  seek  a  seat  for  St.  Francis; 
here  is  my  settle;  put  him  thereon  and  so  he  may  sit  down, 
for  I  am  off."  And  so,  departing  he  gave  occasion  unto  all 
to  arise  also  and  depart  the  church;  therefore  it  behoved  the 
Feltrine  come  down  from  the  pulpit,  without  finding  a  place 
for  his  saint,  and  return,  all  crestfallen,  to  San  Giacomo.  And 
indeed  that  which  a  man  saith  in  the  pulpit  should  be  well 
considered,  lest  indiscreet  preachments  bring  the  word  of 
God  into  derision. 

Bandello  to  the  right  illustrious  and  valiant  Signor  Livio  Liviani, 
Captain  of  Light  Horse. 

Albeit  we  are  here  in  Chierasco  in  daily  expectation  of  the 
Emperor's  army,  numerous  in  Italian,  German  and  Spanish 


MATTEO   BANDELLO.  105 

footmen,  who  threaten  to  send  us  all  underground,  there  is 
not  withal  the  least  sign  of  fear  to  be  seen  in  these  our 
soldiers  ;  nay,  meseemeth  they  await  the  siege  with  an  in- 
expressible allegresse,  as  they  were  to  have  double  or  treble 
pay,  over  and  above  their  due  wage.  I  hear  from  every 
quarter  that  all  are  prepared  to  give  the  enemy  such  an  ac- 
count of  their  valour  and  to  make  such  approof  of  themselves 
that  I  cannot  believe  but  we  shall  abide  with  the  honour  of 
the  emprise  ;  more  by  token  that  my  patron,  Signor  Cesare 
Fregoso,  although  previously  sick  of  a  violent  fever,  leaveth 
nothing  undone  that  may  be  to  our  profit  and  the  enemy's 
hurt.  Moreover,  your  coming  voluntarily  to  shut  yourself 
up  here,  on  your  way  to  the  court  of  the  Most  Christian 
King,  giveth  me  good  augury  and  maketh  me  hope  from 
good  to  better,  and  so  our  Lord  God  grant  that  it  ensue ! 
Now,  betaking  myself,  three  days  agone,  to  the  bastion 
over  against  the  San  Francisco  gate,  I  found  there  many 
good  fellows  in  discourse  of  the  various  usances  of  men  of 
various  nations  concerning  drinking,  and  among  them  were 
many  different  opinions  ;  but,  it  having  been  debated  amain 
of  the  matter,  L,udovico  da  Sanseverino,  who  was  in  com- 
mand of  the  bastion,  a  discreet  youth  and  doughty  of  his 
person,  recounted  a  pleasant  anecdote  to  the  purpose  ;  which 
pleasing  me,  I  wrote  it  down  and  send  and  give  it  unto  you, 
seeing  how  much  appreciation  you  still  show  of  my  compo- 
sitions.    Fare  you  well. 

THE  THIRTEENTH   STORY. 

A  quaint  and  merry  saying  of  a  German  anent  drinking  at  a  public 
festival  holden  at  Naples. 

We  do  but  cudgel  our  brains  in  vain,  comrades  mine,  an 
we  think  to  say  determinately  that  such  a  nation  drinketh 
more  than  such  another,  for  that  of  every  nation  I  have  seen 
very  great  drinkers  and  have  found  many  Germans  and 
Frenchmen  who  love  water  more  than  wine.  True,  it 
seemeth  there  are  some  nations  who  love  wine  more  than 
others  ;  but  in  effect  all  are  mighty  fain  to  drink.  I  warrant 
me,   indeed,   I   have   known    Italians  so  greedy  and    such 


106        SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE    ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

drinkers  that  they  would  not  yield  to  whatsoever  famous 
winebibber  amongst  the  Albanians  or  the  Germans.  And 
what  would  you  say  if  I  should  name  to  you  a  Lombard, 
whom  I  have  seen  toast  it  with  Germans  at  a  German 
Cardinal's  table  and  overcome  them  all,  and  eke  carry  off 
the  Bacchic  palm  amongst  the  Albanians?  The  French 
drink  often  and  will  have  good  and  costly  wines,  but  water 
them  well  and  drink  little  at  a  time.  The  Albanians  and 
Germans  will  have  the  beaker  full,  and  would  fain  be  wine- 
bibbing  from  morning  to  night.  Nay,  the  Spaniard,  who  at 
home  drinketh  water,  an  he  drink  at  another's  expense,  will 
hold  the  basin  to  any  one's  beard.  However,  in  general, 
methinketh  the  Germans  of  every  sort  and  condition, 
whether  nobles  or  commons,  gentle  or  simple,  love  better 
than  any  other  nation  to  play  at  drinking  and  publicly 
fuddle  themselves  at  noblemen's  tables,  so  that  needs  must 
one  after  another  be  carried  home  drunken  and  senseless  ; 
nor  is  this  accounted  a  shame  among  them.  And  to  this 
purpose,  remembering  me  of  a  goodly  saying  of  a  German, 
I  will  tell  you  a  pleasant  anecdote. 

After  Francesco  Sforza,  first  of  that  name,  Duke  of  Milan, 
to  maintain  peace  in  Italy,  made  the  famous  league  and 
union  of  all  the  Italian  powers,  in  the  time  of  Pope  Pius  the 
Second,  he  married  Ippolita  his  daughter  to  Alfonso  of  Arra- 
gon,  firstborn  son  of  King  Ferdinand  the  Old  of  Naples, 
where  the  nuptials  were  solemnized  with  all  pomp  and 
splendor,  as  behoved  unto  two  such  princes.  All  the 
princes  of  Italy  sent  ambassadors  to  honor  the  nuptials,  and 
Duke  Francesco  appointed  the  bride  an  escort  of  the  most 
worshipful  feudatories  and  gentlemen  of  Lombardy.  Now, 
among  many  other  festivities,  carrousels  and  sports  which 
were  holden,  there  was  ordained  a  solemn  and  most  magni- 
ficent tournament,  which  befell  one  day  of  exceeding  great 
heat,  for  it  was  then  in  June.  The  jousters  appeared  all  ar- 
rayed in  the  richest  of  accoutrements,  with  quaint  and  well- 
ordered  devices,  according  to  each  one's  humor,  and  mounted 
on  fiery  and  spirited  horses.  All  ran  and  man}'  lances  were 
broken,  to  the  honor  of  the  jousters  and  the  no  small  pleas- 


MATTEO   BANDELLO.  107 

ure  of  the  spectators.  The  jousts  ended,  there  was  naught 
heard  but  praises  of  these  and  those  and  sayings  such  as, 
"Such  a  lord  hath  broken  so  many  lances,"  "Such  a  baron 
hath  made  so  many  strokes,"  "  Such  a  knight  hath  done  so 
and  so,  and  such  another  so  and  so."  But  behold,  what 
time  silence  was  made,  to  proclaim  who  had  the  honours  of 
the  tournament,  a  German  in  one  of  the  galleries,  without 
waiting  for  the  victory  to  be  declared,  fell  to  crying 
out  and  saying,  as  loudliest  he  might,  "  For  my  part,  ac- 
cursed be  that  sport  and  accursed  be  all  the  festivals  and 
carrousels  whereat  folk  drink  not!"  You  need  not  ask  if 
there  was  matter  for  laughter,  more  by  token  that  be  fell  to 
crying  "Wine!  wine!  wine!"  wherefore  I  know  not  if 
there  was  ever  a  word  spoken  among  such  a  multitude 
whereat  it  was  laughed  so  much  as  it  was  for  a  pretty  while 
at  this  speech  of  the  German's. 

THE   ONE-AND-FORTIETH   STORY. 

King  Louis  XI.  rewardeth  a  scullion  for  a  willy  speech  very  aptly 
made  by  him. 

Louis,  Eleventh  of  the  name,  King  of  France,  was,  ac- 
cording to  that  which  the  annals  of  France  relate,  sore 
travailed  and  harassed  what  while  he  lived;  for  that  not  only 
had  he  war  with  the  Britons,  with  the  Flemings,  with  the  Bur- 
gundians  and  eke  with  the  English  who  had  held  possession  of 
France  little  less  than  three  hundred  years,  but  was,  to  boot, 
at  daggers  drawn  with  well  nigh  all  the  barons  of  France  and 
with  his  own  brother.  And  in  truth  it  may  be  said  that  he 
had  no  greater  enemies  than  those  of  his  own  blood,  who 
well-nigh  all  applied  themselves  to  his  destruction  and  did 
him  all  the  ill  that  was  possible  to  them,  so  that  he  found 
strangers  better  friends  than  his  kinsfolk;  insomuch  as,  he 
having  made  over  Savona  and  his  claims  to  the  dominion  of 
Genoa  to  Francesco  Sforza,  first  of  that  name,  Duke  of 
Milan,  the  said  Duke  Francesco,  grateful  for  the  favors  re- 
ceived from  the  king,  and  understanding  him  to  be  in 
danger  of  losing  his  crown  through  the  revolt  of  the  most 
part  of  the  barons  and  princes  of  the  blood-royal  of  France, 


I08         SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE    ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE. 

dispatched  his  first-born  son  Galeazzo  Sforza  to  his  succour 
with  a  good  army,  under  the  governance  of  Count  Casparo 
Vimercato,  his  captain-general,  by  means  whereof  he  de- 
feated his  enemies  and  abode  in  peace  king  of  all  the  realm. 
He  had  ever  been  a  headstrong  man  and  one  who  rarely  fell 
in  with  others'  counsel;  and  in  particular  he  so  fell  out  with 
King  Charles  VII.,  his  father,  that  he  fled  from  him  and 
retired  into  Dauphiny,  where  he  abode  awhile  in  his  father's 
disgrace,  to  the  insupportable  oppression  of  the  people  of 
the  province;  then  he  took  refuge  with  Philip,  Duke  of  Bur- 
gundy, his  kinsman,  who  received  him  kindly  and  used  him 
as  a  brother,  studying  amain  to  make  peace  between  him 
and  his  father,  who  required  no  otherwhat  of  his  son  than 
that  he  should  humble  himself  and  crave  his  pardon.  But 
Louis  was  always  so  stubborn  that  his  heart  never  suffered 
him  to  ask  pardon  of  his  old  father  and  to  humble  himself  to 
him;  wherefore  matters  went  on  such  wise  that  he  abode 
more  than  ten  j^ears  without  seeing  the  latter,  and  King 
Charles  died,  what  while  his  son  was  yet  in  Burgundy  with 
Duke  Philip. 

His  father  dead,  the  Dauphin  betook  himself  to  France, 
where  he  was,  according  to  the  ordinance  of  that  kingdom, 
made  king  and  was,  as  I  have  already  told  you,  sore  tra- 
vailed; more  by  token  that  in  the  beginning  of  his  reign  he 
showed  himself  much  harsher  than  behoved,  being  morose, 
rnisdoubtful  and  solitary,  and  eschewing  the  converse  of  his 
princes  and  barons.  The  chase  being  in  France  a  very 
noble  exercise,  held  in  great  esteem  and  practised  by  all  the 
great,  he,  when  he  became  king,  forbade  all  manner  of  hunt- 
ing, both  of  beasts  and  birds,  under  pain  of  death  against 
whoso  went  a-hunting  or  a-fowling  without  his  leave  and 
license.  Morever,  he  delighted  to  have  about  him  men  of 
mean  condition  and  base  blood,  giving  such  liberty  unto 
Olivier  le  Daim  his  barber,  as  would  have  beseemed  unto 
the  first  prince  of  the  blood  royal;  nay,  by  the  latter' s  coun- 
sel and  that  of  others  his  peers,  he  dealt  cruelly  with  those 
of  his  own  blood  and  put  divers  princes  to  death,  who, 
had   the   king   entreated  them  according    to  their   degree, 


MATTEO   BANDELLO.  109 

would  maybe  have  eschewed  the  errors  which  they  com- 
mitted Now  Louis  living,  not  as  a  king,  but  very  pri- 
vately and  commonly  wearing  very  mean  clothes,  with  a 
hat  all  stuck  with  cockle-shells  and  two-penny  images  of  the 
saints,  it  chanced  one  day  that,  being  left  with  very  little 
company  at  home,  he  went  down  by  night  to  the  kitchen, 
where  his  victual  was  in  cooking,  and  saw  there  a  lad  with 
better  presence  and  favor  than  sorted  with  the  meanness  of 
his  occupation,  for  that  he  was  in  act  to  turn  a  spit  with  a 
roast  of  wether  mutton.  The  boy's  air  and  aspect  pleased 
the  king,  and  he  said  to  him,  "Tell  me,  boy,  who  art  thou, 
and  whence  thou  comest,  who  is  thy  father,  and  what  thou 
gainest  by  the  day  at  this  thy  trade  ?" 

The  lad,  who  was  newly  come  into  the  house,  having  been 
taken  by  the  king's  cook  to  turnspit,  and  knew  no  one  of 
the  court,  seeing  him  who  accosted  him  in  the  kitchen  clad 
in  russet  homespun  and  with  that  hat  on  his  head  stuck  with 
cockles,  took  him  for  some  pilgrim  coming  from  Saint  James 
of  Galicia  and  answered  him,  saying,  "I  am  a  poor  lad 
called  Etienue,"  here  he  told  his  native  place  and  the 
name  of  his  father,  "who  serve  the  king  in  the  mean 
office  you  see;  and  yet  I  gain  as  much  as  he."  "How," 
rejoined  Louis,  "  thou  gainest  as  much  as  the  king?  What 
gainest  thou?  And  the  king,  too,  what  gaineih  he?" 
"  The  king,"  replied  the  turnspit,  "  gaineth  that  which  he 
eateth,  driuketh  and  weareth;  and  by  my  faith,  I  shall  get 
as  much  of  him,  even  as  he  hath  it  from  our  Lord  God  Al- 
mighty; and  when  the  day  of  death  cometh,  though  he  is  a 
very  rich  king,  and  I  a  very  poor  lad,  he  will  carry  no  more 
with  him  than  I."  This  pithy  speech  much  pleased  the 
king  and  made  Etienne's  fortune,  for  that  Louis  made  him 
his  groom  of  the  chamber  and  did  him  great  good;  and  he 
grew  in  such  favor  with  Louis  that,  if  the  latter,  who  was 
choleric  and  hasty,  gave  him  bytimes  some  cuff  or  other 
he  fell  a-weeping,  the  king,  who  could  not  brook  to  see  him 
weep,  let  him  give  now  a  thousand  and  now  two  thousand 
crowns,  so  he  should  be  comforted,  and  still  hold  him  dear. 


IIO         SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE   ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE. 

BENVENUTO  CELLINI. 

Born  at  Florence,  1500.  At  the  age  of  fifteen  apprenticed  to  a  gold- 
smith ;  aided  the  pontifical  forces  in  the  attack  on  Rome  by  the  Con- 
stable de  Bourbon  in  1527  ;  produced  works  of  art  in  Rome,  Florence 
and  Paris.  Besides  medals,  and  vessels  of  gold  and  silver,  his  most 
distinguished  work  is  the  Perseus,  placed  in  front  of  the  old  Ducal 
Palace  in  Florence.  Wrote  treatises  on  the  goldsmith's  art,  on  sculp- 
ture, and  on  design  ;  but  the  most  important  of  his  writings  is  the 
Autobiography.     Died  at  Florence  in  1569. 

Certain  of  his  Exploits  at  the  Sack  of  Rome y  1527* 
XXXVII.  I  pursued  my  business  of  artilleryman,  and 
every  day  performed  some  extraordinary  feat,  whereby  the 
credit  and  the  favour  I  acquired  with  the  Pope  was  some- 
thing indescribable.  There  never  passed  a  day  but  what  I 
killed  one  or  another  of  our  enemies  in  the  besieging  army. 
On  one  occasion  the  Pope  was  walking  round  the  circular 
keep,  when  he  observed  a  Spanish  Colonel  in  the  Prati ;  he 
recognized  the  man  by  certain  indications,  seeing  that  this 
officer  had  formerly  been  in  his  service  ;  and  while  he  fixed 
his  eyes  on  him,  he  kept  talking  about  him.  I,  above  by 
the  Angel,  knew  nothing  of  all  this,  but  spied  a  fellow 
down  there,  busying  himself  about  the  trenches  with  a 
javelin  in  his  hand  ;  he  was  dressed  entirely  in  rose-color  ; 
and  so,  studying  the  worst  that  I  could  do  against  him,  I 
selected  a  gerfalcon  which  I  had  at  hand  ;  it  is  a  piece  of 
ordnance  larger  and  longer  than  a  swivel,  and  about  the 
size  of  a  demi-culverin.  This  I  emptied,  and  loaded  it 
again  with  a  good  charge  of  fine  powder  mixed  with  the 
coarser  sort ;  then  I  aimed  it  exactly  at  the  man  in  red, 
elevating  prodigiously,  because  a  piece  of  that  calibre  could 
hardly  be  expected  to  carry  true  at  such  a  distance.  I 
fired,  and  hit  my  man  exactly  in  the  middle.  He  had 
trussed  his  sword  in  front,  for  swagger,  after  a  way  those 
Spaniards  have ;  and  my  ball,  when  it  struck  him,  broke 
upon  the  blade,  and  one  could  see  the  fellow  cut  in  two  fair 
halves.      The   Pope,    who  was  expecting  nothing  of  this 

*From  Symonds'  translation  of  the  Life  of  Benvenuto  Cellini. 


BENVENUTO    CEUJNI.  Ill 

kind,  derived  great  pleasure  and  amazement  from  the  sight, 
both  because  it  seemed  to  him  impossible  that  one  should 
aim  and  hit  the  mark  at  such  a  distance,  and  also  because 
the  man  was  cut  in  two,  and  he  could  not  comprehend  how 
this  should  happen.  He  sent  for  me,  and  asked  about  it. 
I  explained  all  the  devices  I  had  used  in  firing  ;  but  told 
him  that  why  the  man  was  cut  in  halves,  neither  he  nor  I 
could  know. 

Upon  my  bended  knees  I  then  besought  him  to  give  me 
the  pardon  of  his  blessing  for  that  homicide  ;  and  for  all  the 
others  I  had  committed  in  the  castle  in  the  service  of 
the  Church.  Thereat  the  Pope,  raising  his  hand,  and  mak- 
ing a  large  open  sign  of  the  cross  upon  my  face,  told  me 
that  he  blessed  me,  and  that  he  gave  me  pardon  for  all 
murders  I  had  ever  perpetrated,  or  should  ever  perpetrate, 
in  the  service  of  the  Apostolic  Church.  When  I  left  him,  I 
went  aloft,  and  never  stayed  from  firing  to  the  utmost  of  my 
power ;  and  few  were  the  shots  of  mine  that  missed  their 
mark.  My  drawing,  and  my  fine  studies  in  my  craft,  and 
my  charming  art  of  music,  all  were  swallowed  up  in  the  din 
of  that  artillery  ;  and  if  I  were  to  relate  in  detail  all  the 
splendid  things  I  did  in  that  infernal  work  of  cruelty,  I 
should  make  the  world  stand  by  and  wonder.  But,  not  to 
be  too  prolix,  I  will  pass  them  over.  Only  I  must  tell  a 
few  of  the  most  remarkable:  which  are,  as  it  were,  forced  in 
upon  me. 

To  begin  then:  pondering  day  and  night  what  I  could  ren- 
der for  my  own  part  in  defence  of  Holy  Church,  and  hav- 
ing noticed  that  the  enemy  changed  guard  and  marched  past 
through  the  great  gate  of  Santo  Spirito,  which  was  within  a 
reasonable  range,  I  thereupon  directed  my  attention  to  that 
spot;  but,  having  to  shoot  sideways,  I  could  not  do  the  dam- 
age that  I  wished,  although  I  killed  a  fair  percentage  every 
day.  This  induced  our  adversaries,  when  they  saw  their 
passage  covered  by  my  guns,  to  load  the  roof  of  a  certain 
house  one  night  with  thirty  gabions,  which  obstructed  the 
view  I  formerly  enjoyed.  Taking  better  thought  than  I  had 
done  of  the  whole  situation,  I  now  turned  all  my  five  pieces 


112         SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE    ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

directly  on  the  gabions,  and  waited  till  the  evening  hour, 
when  they  changed  guard.  Our  enemies,  thinking  they 
were  safe,  came  on  at  greater  ease  and  in  a  closer  body  than 
usual;  whereupon  I  set  fire  to  my  blow-pipes.  Not  merely 
did  I  dash  to  pieces  the  gabions  which  stood  in  my  way;  but, 
what  was  better,  by  that  one  blast  I  slaughtered  more  than 
thirty  men.  In  consequence  of  this  manoeuvre,  which  I  re- 
peated twice,  the  soldiers  were  thrown  into  such  disorder, 
that  being,  moreover,  encumbered  with  the  spoils  of  that 
great  sack,  and  some  of  them  desirous  of  enjoying  the  fruits 
of  their  labour,  they  oftentimes  showed  a  mind  to  mutiny 
and  take  themselves  away  from  Rome.  However,  after  com- 
ing to  terms  with  their  valiant  captain,  Gian  di  Urbino,  they 
were  ultimately  compelled,  at  their  excessive  inconvenience, 
to  take  another  road  when  they  changed  guard.  It  cost 
them  three  miles  of  march,  whereas  before  they  had  but  a 
half  mile.  Having  achieved  this  feat,  I  was  entreated  with 
prodigious  favours  by  all  the  men  of  quality  who  were  in- 
vested in  the  castle.  This  incident  was  so  important  that  I 
thought  it  well  to  relate  it,  before  finishing  the  history  of 
things  outside  my  art,  the  which  is  the  real  object  of  my 
writing;  forsooth,  if  I  wanted  to  ornament  my  biography 
with  such  matters,  I  should  have  far  too  much  to  tell. 

Fixing  the  Value  of  the  Perseus. 

XCV.  Next  day  I  presented  myself,  and,  after  a  few  words 
of  conversation,  the  Duke  addressed  me  cheerfully:  "To- 
morrow, without  fail,  I  mean  to  dispatch  your  business  ;  set 
your  mind  at  rest,  then."  I,  who  felt  sure  that  he  meant 
what  he  said,  waited  with  great  impatience  for  the  morrow. 
When  the  longed  for  day  arrived,  I  betook  me  to  the  palace; 
and  as  it  always  happens  that  evil  tidings  travel  faster  than 
good  news,  Messer  Giacopo  Guidi,  secretary  to  his  Excel- 
lency, called  me  with  his  wry  mouth  and  haughty  voice; 
drawing  himself  up  as  stiff  as  a  poker,  he  began  to  speak  to 
this  effect:  "  The  Duke  says  he  wants  you  to  tell  him  how 
much  you  ask  for  your  Perseus."  I  remained  dumfounded 
and  astounded;  yet  I  quickly  replied  that  it  was  not  my  cus- 


BENVENUTO   CELLINI.  113 

torn  to  put  prices  on  my  work,  and  that  this  was  not  what  his 
Excellency  had  promised  me  two  days  ago.  The  man  raised 
his  voice,  and  ordered  me  expressly  in  the  Duke's  name, 
under  penalty  of  his  severe  displeasure,  to  say  how  much  I 
wanted.  Now  I  had  hoped  not  only  to  gain  some  handsome 
reward,  trusting  to  the  mighty  signs  of  kindness  shown  me 
by  the  Duke,  but  I  had  still  more  expected  to  secure  the 
entire  good  graces  of  his  Excellency,  seeing  I  never  asked 
for  anything,  but  only  for  his  favour.  Accordingly,  this 
wholly  unexpected  way  of  dealing  with  me  put  me  in  a  fury, 
and  I  was  especially  enraged  by  the  manner  which  that 
venomous  toad  assumed  in  discharging  his  commission.  I 
exclaimed  that  if  the  Duke  gave  me  ten  thousand  crowns  I 
should  not  be  paid  enough,  and  that  if  I  had  ever  thought 
things  would  come  to  this  haggling,  I  should  not  have  set- 
tled in  his  service.  Thereupon  the  surly  fellow  began  to 
abuse  me,  and  I  gave  it  him  back  again. 

Upon  the  following  day,  when  I  paid  my  respects  to  the 
Duke,  he  beckoned  to  me.  I  approached,  and  he  exclaimed 
in  anger :  ' '  Cities  and  great  palaces  are  built  with  ten 
thousands  of  ducats."  I  rejoined:  "Your  Excellency  can 
find  multitudes  of  men  who  are  able  to  build  your  cities  and 
palaces,  but  you  will  not,  perhaps,  find  one  man  in  the  world 
who  could  make  a  second  Perseus."  Then  I  took  my  leave 
without  saying  or  doing  anything  farther.  A  few  days  after- 
wards the  Duchess  sent  for  me,  and  advised  me  to  put  my  dif- 
ference with  the  Duke  into  her  hands,  since  she  thought  she 
could  conduct  the  business  to  my  satisfaction.  On  hearing 
these  kindly  words,  I  replied  that  I  had  never  asked  any 
other  recompense  for  my  labours  than  the  good  graces  of 
the  Duke,  and  that  his  most  illustrious  Excellency  had 
assured  me  of  this  ;  it  was  not  needful  that  I  should  place  in 
their  Excellencies'  hands  what  I  had  always  frankly  left  to 
them  from  the  first  days  when  I  undertook  their  service.  I 
farther  added  that  if  his  most  illustrious  Excellency  gave 
me  but  a  crazia,  which  is  worth  five  farthings,  for  my  work, 
I  should  consider  myself  contented,  provided  only  that  his 
Excellency  did  not  deprive  me  of  his  favour.     At   these 


114        SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE. 

words  the  Duchess  smiled  a  little  and  said  :  "  Benvenuto, 
you  would  do  well  to  act  as  I  advise  you."  Then  she 
turned  her  back  and  left  me.  I  thought  it  was  my  best 
policy  to  speak  with  the  humility  I  have  above  described  ; 
yet  it  turned  out  that  I  had  done  the  worst  for  myself,  be- 
cause, albeit  she  had  harboured  some  angry  feelings  toward 
me,  she  had  in  her  a  certain  way  of  dealing  which  was 
generous. 

XCVI.  About  that  time  I  was  very  intimate  with  Giro- 
lamo  degli  Albizzi,  commissary  of  the  Duke's  militia.  One 
day  this  friend  said  to  me  :  "  O  Benvenuto,  it  would  not  be 
a  bad  thing  to  put  your  little  difference  of  opinion  with  the 
Duke  to  rights ;  and  I  assure  you  that  if  you  repose  confi- 
dence in  me,  I  feel  myself  the  man  to  settle  matters.  I 
know  what  I  am  saying.  The  Duke  is  really  getting  angry, 
and  you  will  come  badly  out  of  the  affair.  Let  this  suffice  ; 
I  am  not  at  liberty  to  say  all  I  know."  Now,  subsequently 
to  that  conversation  with  the  Duchess,  I  had  been  told  by 
some  one,  possibly  a  rogue,  that  he  had  heard  how  the 
Duke  said  upon  some  occasion  which  offered  itself  :  ' '  For 
less  than  two  farthings  I  will  throw  Perseus  to  the  dogs,  and 
so  our  differences  will  be  ended." 

This,  then,  made  me  anxious,  and  induced  me  to  intrust 
Girolamo  degli  Albizzi  with  the  negotiations,  telling  him 
anything  would  satisfy  me  provided  I  retained  the  good 
graces  of  the  Duke.  That  honest  fellow  was  excellent  in 
all  his  dealings  with  soldiers,  especially  with  the  militia, 
who  are  for  the  most  part  rustics  ;  but  he  had  no  taste  for 
statuary,  and  therefore  could  not  understand  its  conditions. 
Consequently,  when  he  spoke  to  the  Duke,  he  began  thus  : 
"Prince,  Benvenuto  has  placed  himself  in  my  hands,  and 
has  begged  me  to  recommend  him  to  your  excellency." 
The  Duke  replied  :  "I  too  am  willing  to  refer  myself  to 
you,  and  shall  be  satisfied  with  your  decision."  Thereupon 
Girolamo  composed  a  letter,  with  much  skill  and  greatly  to 
my  honour,  fixing  the  sum  which  the  Duke  would  have 
to  pay  me  at  3500  golden  crowns  ;  and  this  should  not  be 
taken  as  my  proper  recompense  for  such  a  masterpiece,  but 


BENVENUTO  CELLINI.  115 

only  as  a  kind  of  gratuity  ;  enough  to  say  that  I  was  satis- 
fied ;  with  many  other  phrases  of  like  tenor,  all  of  which 
implied  the  price  which  I  have  mentioned. 

The  Duke  signed  this  agreement  as  gladly  as  I  took  it 
sadly.  When  the  Duchess  heard,  she  said:  "It  would 
have  been  better  for  that  poor  man  if  he  had  placed  himself 
in  my  hands  ;  I  could  have  got  him  five  thousand  crowns  in 
gold."  One  day  when  I  went  to  the  palace,  she  repeated 
these  same  words  to  me  in  the  presence  of  Messer  Alamauno 
Salviati,  and  laughed  at  me  a  little,  saying  that  I  deserved 
my  bad  luck. 

The  Duke  gave  orders  that  I  should  be  paid  a  hundred 
golden  crowns  in  gold  per  month,  until  the  sum  was  dis- 
charged ;  and  thus  it  ran  for  some  months.  Afterwards, 
Messer  Antonio  de'Nobili,  who  had  to  transact  the  business, 
began  to  give  me  fifty,  and  sometimes  later  on  he  gave  me 
twenty-five,  and  sometimes  nothing.  Accordingly,  when  I 
saw  that  the  settlement  was  being  thus  deferred,  I  spoke 
good-humoredly  to  Messer  Antonio,  and  begged  him  to  ex- 
plain why  he  did  not  complete  my  payments.  He  answered 
in  a  like  tone  of  politeness ;  yet  it  struck  me  that  he  exposed 
his  own  mind  too  much.  Let  the  reader  judge.  He  began 
by  saying  that  the  sole  reason  why  he  could  not  go  forward 
regularly  with  these  payments,  was  the  scarcity  of  money  at 
the  palace  ;  but  he  promised,  when  cash  came  in,  to  dis- 
charge arrears.  Then  he  added:  "Oh  heavens!  if  I  did 
not  pay  you,  I  should  be  an  utter  rogue."  I  was  somewhat 
surprised  to  hear  him  speak  in  that  way  ;  yet  I  resolved  to 
hope  that  he  would  pay  me  when  he  had  the  power  to  do 
so.  But  when  I  observed  that  things  went  quite  the  con- 
trary way,  and  saw  that  I  was  being  pillaged,  I  lost  temper 
with  the  man,  and  recalled  to  his  memory  hotly  and  in 
anger  what  he  had  declared  he  would  be  if  he  did  not  pay 
me.  However,  he  died  ;  and  five  hundred  crowns  are  still 
owing  me  at  the  present  date,  which  is  nigh  upon  the  end  of 
1566.  There  was  also  a  balance  due  upon  my  salary,  which 
I  thought  would  be  forgotten,  since  three  years  had  elapsed 
without  payment.     But  it  so  happened  that  the  Duke  fell 


Il6         SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE   ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE. 

ill  of  a  serious  malady.  Finding  that  the  remedies  of  his 
physicians  availed  nothing,  it  is  probable  that  he  betook 
himself  to  God,  and  therefore  decreed  the  discharge  of  all 
debts  to  his  servants.  I  too  was  paid  on  this  occasion,  yet 
I  never  obtained  what  still  stood  out  upon  my  Perseus. 

XCVII.  I  had  almost  determined  to  say  nothing  more 
about  that  unlucky  Perseus ;  but  a  most  remarkable  inci- 
dent, which  I  do  not  like  to  omit,  obliges  me  to  do  so ; 
wherefore  I  must  new  turn  back  a  bit,  to  gather  up  the 
thread  of  my  narration.  I  thought  I  was  acting  for  the 
best  when  I  told  the  Duchess  that  I  could  not  compromise 
affairs  which  were  no  longer  in  my  hands,  seeing  I  had  in- 
formed the  Duke  that  I  should  gladly  accept  whatever  he 
chose  to  give  me.  I  said  this  in  the  hope  of  gaining  favor  ; 
and  with  this  manifestation  of  submissiveness  I  employed 
every  likely  means  of  pacifying  his  resentment ;  for  I  ought 
to  add  that  a  few  days  before  he  came  to  terms  with 
Albizzi,  the  Duke  had  shown  he  was  excessively  displeased 
with  me.  The  reason  was  as  follows  :  I  complained  of 
some  abominable  acts  of  injustice  done  to  me  by  Messer 
Alfonso  Quistelli,  Messer  Jacopo  Polverino  of  the  Exchequer, 
and  more  than  all  by  Ser  Giovanbattista  Brandini  of  Vol- 
terra.  When,  therefore,  I  set  forth  my  cause  with  some 
vehemence,  the  Duke  flew  into  the  greatest  rage  conceiv- 
able. Being  thus  in  anger,  he  exclaimed:  "This  is  just 
the  same  as  with  your  Perseus,  when  you  asked  those  ten 
thousand  crowns.  You  let  yourself  be  blinded  by  mere 
cupidity.  Therefore  I  shall  have  the  statue  valued,  and 
shall  give  you  what  the  experts  think  it  worth."  To  these 
words  I  replied  with  too  much  daring  and  a  touch  of  indig- 
nation, which  is  always  out  of  place  in  dealing  with  great 
princes  :  ' '  How  is  it  possible  that  my  work  should  be 
valued  at  its  proper  worth,  when  there  is  not  a  man  in 
Florence  capable  of  performing  it?"  That  increased  his 
irritation  ;  he  uttered  many  furious  phrases,  and  among 
them  said  :  "There  is  in  Florence  at  this  day  a  man  well 
able  to  make  such  a  statue,  and  who  is  therefore  highly 
capable  of  judging  it."     He  meant  Bandinello,  Cavaliere  of 


BENVENUTO   CELLINI.  117 

S.  Jacopo.  Then  I  rejoined  :  "My  lord,  your  most  illus- 
trious Excellency  gave  me  the  means  of  producing  an  im- 
portant and  very  difficult  master-piece  in  the  midst  of  this 
the  noblest  school  of  the  world  ;  and  my  work  has  been  re- 
ceived with  warmer  praises  than  any  other  heretofore 
exposed  before  the  gaze  of  our  incomparable  masters.  My 
chief  pride  is  the  commendation  of  those  able  men  who  both 
understand  and  practise  the  arts  of  design — as  in  particular 
Bronzino,  the  painter ;  this  man  set  himself  to  work,  and 
composed  four  sonnets  couched  in  the  choicest  style,  and 
full  of  honor  to  myself.  Perhaps  it  was  his  example  which 
moved  the  whole  city  to  such  a  tumult  of  enthusiasm.  I 
freely  admit  that  if  .sculpture  were  his  business  instead  of 
painting,  then  Bronzino  might  have  been  equal  to  a  task 
like  mine.  Michel  Agnolo  Buonarroti,  again,  whom  I  am 
proud  to  call  my  master ;  he,  I  admit,  could  have  achieved 
the  same  success  when  he  was  young,  but  not  with  less 
fatigue  and  trouble  than  I  endured.  But  now  that  he  is  far 
advanced  in  years,  he  would  most  certainly  be  found  un- 
equal to  the  strain.  Therefore  I  think  I  am  justified  in  say- 
ing that  no  man  known  upon  this  earth  could  have  pro- 
duced my  Perseus.  For  the  rest,  my  work  has  received  the 
greatest  reward  I  could  have  wished  for  in  this  world ; 
chiefly  and  especially  because  your  most  illustrious  Excel- 
lency not  only  expressed  yourself  satisfied,  but  praised  it  far 
more  highly  than  any  one  beside.  What  greater  and  more 
honorable  prize  could  be  desired  by  me?  I  affirm  most 
emphatically  that  your  Excellenc3r  could  not  pay  me  with 
more  glorious  coin,  nor  add  from  any  treasury  a  wealth  sur- 
passing this.  Therefore  I  hold  myself  overpaid  already, 
and  return  thanks  to  your  most  illustrious  Excellency  with 
all  my  heart."  The  Duke  made  answer  :  "  Probably  you 
think  I  have  not  the  money  to  pay  you.  For  my  part,  I 
promise  you  that  I  shall  pay  you  more  for  the  statue  than  it 
is  worth."  Then  I  retorted:  "I  did  not  picture  to  my 
fancy  any  better  recompense  from  your  Excellency  ;  yet  I 
account  myself  amply  remunerated  by  that  first  reward 
which  the  school  of  Florence  gave  me.     With  this  to  console 


Il8        SOURCE- BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

me,  I  shall  take  my  departure  on  the  instant,  without  re- 
turning to  the  house  you  gave  me,  and  shall  never  seek  to 
set  my  foot  in  this  town  again."  We  were  just  at  S. 
Felicita,  and  his  Excellency  was  proceeding  to  the  palace. 
When  he  heard  these  choleric  words,  he  turned  upon  me  in 
stern  anger  and  exclaimed  :  "  You  shall  not  go  ;  take  heed 
you  do  not  go  !"  Half  terrified,  I  then  followed  him  to  the 
palace. 

On  arriving  there,  his  Excellency  sent  for  the  Archbishop 
of  Pisa,  named  De'  Bartolini,  and  Messer  Pandolfo  della 
Stufa,  requesting  them  to  order  Baccio  Bandinello,  in  his 
name  to  examine  well  my  Perseus  and  value  it,  since  he 
wished  to  pay  its  exact  price.  These  excellent  men  went 
forthwith  and  performed  their  embassy.  In  reply  Bandinello 
said  that  he  had  examined  the  statue  minutely,  and  knew 
well  enough  what  it  was  worth;  but  having  been  on  bad 
terms  otherwise  with  me  for  some  time  past,  he  did  not  care 
to  be  entangled  anyhow  in  my  affairs.  Then  they  began  to 
put  a  gentle  pressure  on  him,  saying:  "The  Duke  ordered 
us  to  tell  you,  under  pain  of  his  displeasure,  that  you  are  to 
value  the  statue,  and  you  may  have  two  or  three  days  to  con- 
sider your  estimate.  When  you  have  done  so,  tell  us  at  what 
price  it  ought  to  be  paid."  He  answered  that  his  judgment 
was  already  formed,  that  he  could  not  disobe3'  the  Duke, 
and  that  my  work  was  rich  and  beautiful  and  excellent  in 
execution;  therefore  he  thought  sixteen  thousand  crowns  or 
more  would  not  be  an  excessive  price  for  it.  Those  good 
and  courteous  gentlemen  reported  this  to  the  Duke,  who  was 
mightily  enraged  ;  they  also  told  the  same  to  me.  I  replied 
that  nothing  in  the  world  would  induce  me  to  take  praise 
from  Bandinello,  "seeing  that  this  bad  man  speaks  ill  of 
everybody."  My  words  were  carried  to  the  Duke;  and  that 
was  the  reason  why  the  Duchess  wanted  me  to  place  the 
matter  in  her  hands.  All  that  I  have  written  is  the  pure 
truth.  I  will  only  add  that  I  ought  to  have  trusted  to  her 
intervention,  for  then  I  should  have  been  quickly  paid,  and 
should  have  received  so  much  more  into  the  bargain. 


A   LITERARY   SOURCE-BOOK 


OF  THE 


GERMAN    RENAISSANCE 


MERRICK  WHITCOMB,  Ph.  D., 
Instructor  in  Modern  European  History,  University  of  'Pennsylvania. 


Department  of  History. 

university  of  pennsylvania. 

PHILADELPHIA,  PA. 

1899. 


COPYRIGHT,   1899, 
BY 

MERRICK  WHITCOMB. 


Uniform  with  this  Volume  : 

A  LITERARY  SOURCE-BOOK 

OP   THE 

ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE. 

Bound  in  cloth,  $1.00. 


THE    RENAISSANCE   IN    GERMANY.  I 

THE  RENAISSANCE  IN  GERMANY.1 

The  humanistic  movement  in  German}'  repeats,  in  many  par- 
ticulars of  its  development,  the  features  of  the  earlier  and  greater 
Renaissance  in  Italy.  It  differs,  however,  from  its  Italian  proto- 
type in  this  important  particular  at  least,  that  the  various  phases 
of  its  progress  are  compressed  into  a  period  of  little  more  than  half 
a  century,  whereas  the  Italian  movement  covers  two  centuries 
from  its  rise  to  its  decline.  Just  before  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth 
century  Aeneas  Sylvius,  himself  an  accomplished  man  of  letters, 
who  had,  moreover,  as  secretary  at  the  imperial  court  of  Frederick 
III.,  abundant  opportunity  of  observing  the  intellectual  develop- 
ment and  tendencies  of  the  Germans,  as  the  result  of  his  experi- 
ence declares  that  the  Germans  were  still  in  their  mediaeval  per- 
iod; that  such  intellectual  activity  as  they  possessed  was  of  a 
character  exclusively  theological;  that  they  still  moved  within  the 
narrow  circle  of  scholasticism.  "They  are  good  people,"  he  said, 
"  but  they  are  not  interested  in  the  things  that  interest  me."  Of 
the  nobles,  the  future  patrons  of  humanism,  he  remarked  further: 
"They  prefer  horses  and  dogs  to  poets,  and  like  horses  and  dogs, 
they  shall  go  down  fameless  unto  death."  Yet  such  a  Renais- 
sance as  Germany  possesses  lies  between  these  experiences  of 
Aeneas  Sylvius  and  the  end  of  the  first  quarter  of  the  following 
century,  when  Luther's  bold  and  cumulative  attack  upon  the 
church  of  Rome  turned  the  interests  of  young  Germany  from  the 
sunny  fields  of  humanism  into  a  new  arena  of  theological  struggle. 

Certain  conditions  existed,  however,  favorable  for  a  rapid  de- 
velopment of  humanistic  ideas  in  Germany.  When  that  country 
had  arrived  at  a  point  where  the  more  material  needs  were  satis- 

1  So  far  as  I  am  aware,  there  has  been  no  special  treatment  in  English  of 
the  German  humanistic  movement,  which  for  the  sake  of  brevity  has  been 
termed — I  hope  without  too  much  violence — the  "German  Renaissance." 
It  seemed  not  inappropriate,  therefore,  to  preface  the  selections  offered  here 
with  a  few  remarks  upon  the  significance  and  character  of  that  general  in- 
tellectual quickening  in  German  lauds,  whose  genial  activity  was  merged  in 
the  struggles  of  the  Reformation.  The  following  account  will  seem  less 
meagre  if  taken  in  connection  with  the  introductory  notices  placed  at  the 
head  of  the  various  selections.  Upon  this  subject  compare  Van  Dyke:  "The 
Age  of  the  Renaissance,"  Scribners,  1897,  an  excellent  account  in  so  far  as 
the  limits  of  the  work  permit;  also  "  The  Renaissance,"  by  Philip  Schaff, 
Putnams.  1801. 


2  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

fied,  and  a  wider  intellectual  field  was  necessary  for  continued 
expansion,  the  materials  for  the  new  learning  were  found,  already 
elaborated,  beyond  the  Alps.  The  early  steps  had  been  taken 
there:  the  slow  and  tedious  preliminary  work  had  been  accom- 
plished, the  enormous  task  of  bringing  to  light  the  remains  of 
classical  culture  ;  even  the  preparation  of  elementary  treatises, 
whose  object  it  was  to  prepare  the  mind  for  the  utilization  of  the 
recovered  treasures;  all  this  had  been  done  before  the  middle  of 
the  fifteenth  century,  and  it  only  remained  for  the  enterprising 
German  pioneer  to  cross  the  Alps,  bring  home  the  results  of  this 
tremendous  labor,  and  give  it  a  form  adapted  for  the  German  mind 
and  inclination. 

Moreover,  when  Germany  entered  upon  her  humanistic  career, 
a  potent  instrument  had  been  prepared  for  the  dissemination  of 
the  new  ideas.  In  superseding  the  slow  process  of  manual  repro- 
duction, which  consumed  so  much  of  the  time  and  strength  of  the 
Italian  humanists  from  Petrarch  on,  the  printing-press  gave  a 
mighty  impetus  to  the  diffusion  of  the  new  learning.  It  permitted 
the  more  advanced  ideas,  in  so  far  as  they  were  consonant  with 
the  prevailing  trend  of  thought,  to  gain  a  rapid  victory,  accom- 
plishing thereby  in  a  brief  period  what  in  a  time  of  less  perfect 
communication  had  required  generations.  It  is  on  this  account, 
perhaps,  more  than  on  any  other,  that  we  find  Germany,  within 
the  space  of  half  a  century,  passing  rapidly  through  the  various 
phases  of  humanistic  development,  which  in  Italy  required  two 
centuries. 

These  phases  are  a  series  of  stages  in  the  emancipation  of 
thought,  and  its  subsequent  progress  from  a  condition  of  limited 
theological  interest,  characteristic  of  the  Middle  Ages,  to  that 
condition  which  comprehends  the  wide  range  of  human  interests 
which  we  call  modern.  Along  this  track  of  progress  are  to  be 
found  a  sequence  of  individuals,  whom  for  purposes  of  illustra- 
tion and  study  it  is  convenient  to  arrange  in  groups,  and  to  char- 
acterize according  to  the  degree  of  their  advancement. 

We  have  at  first,  as  in  Italy,  a  group  of  early  humanists,  who 
may  be  called  the  theological  humanists,  b}r  way  of  indicating  that 
they  are  still  largely  under  the  influence  of  mediaeval  culture. 
Although  working  earnestly  for  the  introduction  of  humanistic 
studies  into  Germany,  these  men  are  not  given  over  unreservedly 
to  classical  ideals;  they  are  disposed  to  eliminate  from  the  list  of 


THE    RENAISSANCE    IN   GERMANY.  3 

Greek  and  Latin  authors  those  whose  works  are  in  any  respect 
imbued  with  an  anti-Christian  spirit;  their  interest  is  not  primar- 
ily in  the  works  themselves,  but  in  their  adaptation  for  Christian 
purposes.  Humanists  of  this  description  were  conscious  of  a 
divided  allegiance,  and  it  is  impossible  to  resist  the  conviction 
that  their  arguments  in  favor  of  the  new  learning  are  intended  to 
serve  quite  as  much  for  self-justification  as  for  the  persuasion  of 
their  readers.  It  is  quite  in  the  nature  of  things  that  with  these 
men  youth  is  the  period  of  rationalism,  and  that  as  they  advance 
toward  the  inevitable  solution,  in  their  individual  cases,  of  the 
great  problem  of  the  future,  their  conservatism  asserts  itself  and 
they  recoil  from  the  enterprises  of  their  earlier  days.  Man}-  of 
them,  in  fact,  revert  to  a  condition  of  total  obscurantism,  and  pass 
the  evening  of  life  in  retirement  and  religious  meditation,  doing 
penance  for  the  literary  aberrations  of  their  youth. 

In  Germany  the  theological  group  seems  to  include  a  great  part 
of  the  well-known  men  of  letters.  There  are  several  reasons  for 
this.  It  is  not  strange  that  in  a  country  where  learning  had  been 
almost  exclusively  an  affair  of  the  clergy,  the  first  recruits  for 
humanism  should  be  drawn  from  a  class  whose  earlier  impressions 
rendered  a  separation  from  conventional  theological  ideas  a  mat- 
ter of  great  difficulty.  Then,  too,  the  German  mind,  perhaps 
because  less  composite  in  origin,  and  less  subject  to  extraneous 
influences  in  its  national  development,  seems  to  have  shown  a 
relatively  great  tenacity  in  respect  to  a  small  number  of  ideas,  of 
which  the  religious  idea  had  been  for  generations  one  of  the  most 
prominent.  Such  men  were  not  likely  to  carry  the  new  learning 
beyond  the  pale  of  Christianity,  and  their  predominant  number 
and  influence  gave  to  the  German  Renaissance  a  more  truly  re- 
ligious character  and  a  deeper  sincerity  of  purpose  than  resulted 
from  similar  intellectual  impulses  in  Italy.  It  also  happened  that 
the  leaders  of  this  group,  men  like  Rudolf  Agricola  and  Jakob 
Wimpheling,  turned  their  attention  to  educational  matters  and 
embodied  their  principles  in  the  organization  of  the  German 
school  system.  In  the  same  manner  the  principals  of  the  more 
important  secondary  schools,  as  for  example,  Alexander  Hegius, 
of  Deventer,  were  representatives  of  the  same  deeply  religious 
spirit,  which  was  not  without  determining  influence  in  their  con- 
tact with  the  rising  generation  of  literary  workers. 

Another  and  later  group  of  humanists  may  be  called,  for  want 


4  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

of  a  better  term,  the  scientific  group.  The  chief  characteristic  of 
its  members  is  that  their  interest  in  the  new  learning  is  for  the 
thing  itself,  and  not  for  the  use  to  which  it  may  be  put  in  advanc- 
ing the  interests  of  religion.  They  are  not  necessarily  irreligious; 
in  fact  such  an  element  has  almost  no  representation  in  German 
humanism;  they  have  simply  advanced  to  a  point,  where,  without 
denying  that  religion  is  one  of  the  most  important,  if  not  the  most 
important  department  of  thought,  they  recognize  that  the  circle 
of  human  interests  has  grown  to  embrace  other  considerations 
which,  if  not  antagonistic,  have  yet  no  necessary  connection  with 
religion.  Another  characteristic  of  these  humanists  is  that  they 
are  not  necessarily  clergymen.  The  humanities  have  come  by  this 
time  to  attract  men  from  all  departments  of  life.  At  the  high  tide 
of  the  German  Renaissance,  at  the  close  of  the  fifteenth  century, 
lecturers  upon  theology,  medicine  and  law  were  speaking  to  empty 
benches;  the  interests  of  the  student  body  had  turned  toward  the 
new  learning.  The  dethronement  of  theology  from  its  supreme 
position  at  the  head  of  the  university  curriculum  made  place  for 
the  introduction  of  other  studies.  Greek  came  more  and  more  to 
be  the  mark  of  a  liberal  education,  and  the  knowledge  of  a  third 
tongue,  Hebrew,  was  an  indication  of  still  greater  attainment. 
The  field  of  speculation,  loosed  from  its  mediaeval  entanglement, 
drifted  away  from  the  sole  contemplation  of  the  spiritual  results 
of  life,  and  came  to  include  the  facts  of  material  existence.  His- 
tory came  to  be  regarded  as  something  other  than  the  melancholy 
confirmation  of  the  results  of  Adam's  fall;  the  world  and  its  con- 
tents came  to  demand  attention,  a  tendency  stimulated  by  the 
recent  extension  of  the  earth's  known  area. 

This  second  group  embraces  a  wide  range  of  intellectual  effort. 
To  it  belongs  Erasmus,  who  although  conventionally  and  prop- 
erly religious  in  his  observances,  nevertheless  affords  at  every 
turn  unquestionable  evidence  that  the  great  interests  of  his  life 
are  literary  and  not  theological.  To  it  belongs  as  well  von  Hut- 
ten,  in  whom  modernism  has  taken  the  form  of  a  patriotic  desire 
to  throw  aside  the  yoke  and  influence  of  Rome,  which  has  pre- 
vented the  formation  in  Germany  of  a  centralized  aud  homogene- 
ous nation,  capable  of  approaching  successfully  the  solution  of 
modern  problems.  This  aspiration  is  in  itself  a  recognition  of  the 
importance  of  human  association  for  material  purposes,  and  a 
denial  of  the  exclusive  importance  of  such  association  for  the  pur- 


THE   RENAISSANCE   IN   GERMANY.  5 

poses  of  spiritual  preparation  and  advancement.  In  this  group 
also  we  find  the  mathematicians,  the  geographers  and  other  men 
of  science,  whose  industry  responds  to  the  expanding  needs  of 
human  effort. 

Moreover,  in  the  same  association  we  find  the  purely  literary 
workers,  the  "poets,"  as  all  men  were  called  at  the  time  who  were 
capable  of  original  literary  production.  These  are  the  men  who 
seem  least  German,  and  most  cosmopolitan  ;  they  more  nearly 
reflect  the  contemporaneous  idea  of  humanism  in  Italy,  the  striving 
for  a  pure  and  graceful  Latin  diction.  The  conditions  of  this  form 
of  literary  work  imply  a  contempt  for  the  vernacular  and  an  em- 
phasis upon  the  necessity  for  style,  even  at  the  expense  of  content. 
Such  skill,  although  highly  prized  and  greatly  striven  for  by  men 
everywhere  in  the  Renaissance,  has  but  the  faintest  meaning  for 
posterity,  whose  interest  is  in  the  spirit  of  the  Renaissance  rather 
than  in  its  copy-book. 

With  this  preliminary  classification  of  German  humanists,  it 
will  be  found  profitable  to  approach  the  subject  from  another 
standpoint,  and  to  note  the  various  centres  of  German  life  in  which 
humanistic  effort  finds  its  origin  and  support.  In  Italy  the  uni- 
versities were  not  centres  of  the  new  learning.  Its  leaders  were 
rather  to  be  found  in  the  courts  of  princes  or  in  the  administrative 
bureaux  of  republics.  This  is  largely  due  to  the  fact  that  the 
universities  of  Italy  had  been  for  so  long  the  great  professional 
schools  of  Europe.  The  "bread-studies"  were  too  firmly  en- 
trenched there  to  be  driven  into  a  subordinate  position  by  mere 
cultural  studies.  In  Germany,  on  the  other  hand,  the  universi- 
ties were  relatively  more  numerous,  of  later  growth,  and  their 
interests  less  definitely  determined.  Lecturers  upon  poetry  and 
classical  authors  found  little  difficulty  in  filling  their  benches  at 
the  expense  of  the  more  respectable  departments.  Progress  in 
this  direction,  however,  varied  according  to  the  influence  that 
presided  over  the  direction  of  each  separate  seat  of  learning.1  At 
Cologne,  for  example,  where  Dominican  influences  were  par- 
amount, the   new   learning   was   looked   upon    as   questionable ; 

1  The  universities  of  Germany  at  this  period  were:  Prague  (1348),  Vienna 
(1365),  Heidelberg  (1385),  Cologne  (1388),  Erfurt  (1392),  Leipzig  (1409), 
Rostock  (1409),  Greifswald  (1456),  Freiburg  (1460),  Basel  (1460),  Ingolstadt 
(1472),  Mainz  (1476),  Tubingen  (1476),  Wittenberg  (1502)  and  Frankfort-on- 
the-Oder  (1506). 


6  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

Erfurt,  on  the  other  hand,  owing  to  the  mild  spirit  there  prevail- 
ing, became  the  true  centre  of  advance.  Between  these  intellect- 
ual poles  lay  the  other  universities,  inclining  to  this  side  or  to  the 
other,  according  as  the  nature  and  traditional  bias  of  the  domi- 
nant territorial  sovereign  determined.  The  fact  that  the  study  of 
the  humanities  afforded  preparation  for  no  definite  career,  led  to 
a  vast  increase  in  the  number  of  students,  whose  residence  at  the 
university  was  fixed  by  no  particular  curriculum,  and  in  this 
manner  to  a  feeling  of  contempt  for  those  degrees  and  titles  which, 
in  the  case  of  the  older  studies,  had  been  the  necessary  qualifica- 
tions for  professional  life.  Again,  by  increasing  the  content  of 
the  university  curriculum,  humanism  discouraged  the  empty 
routine  of  disputation  upon  points  of  infinitesimal  importance, 
which  in  mediaeval  times  made  up  so  considerable  a  part  of  uni- 
versity work. 

It  was  not  in  the  universities  alone  that  the  new  learning  made 
its  influence  felt.  Its  progress  was  marked  in  the  great  secondary 
schools,  such  as  Deventer,  Minister  and  Schlettstadt,  where  thou- 
sands of  young  men  secured  such  preparation  as  was  necessary  to 
fit  them  for  teaching  and  other  intellectual  employments,  as  well 
as  for  the  advanced  work  of  the  universities.  The  fact  that  it  was 
the  chief  object  of  these  schools  to  afford  a  working  knowledge  of 
the  Latin  language  made  them  especially  susceptible  to  changes 
which  had  for  their  object  a  substitution  of  classical  models  for 
the  monkish  Latin  so  generally  in  use.  This  change  made  itself 
manifest  in  the  employment  of  new  text-books  in  the  place  of  the 
clumsy  and  inadequate  grammars  and  lexicons  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  and  furthermore,  in  the  rejection  of  Latin  writers  of  the 
declining  Roman  Empire  and  of  the  schools,  in  favor  of  the  more 
elegant  authors  of  classical  antiquity.  There  also  took  place,  in 
the  more  enterprising  of  the  schools,  an  extension  of  the  course  of 
study,  to  include  at  least  the  elements  of  Greek  and  Hebrew. 

There  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  an  intense  interest  in  edu- 
cation reigned  throughout  Germany  at  the  close  of  the  fifteenth 
century,  and  that  many  of  the  prizes  in  official  and  in  public  life 
were  to  be  won  through  the  instrumentality  of  the  new  learning. 
The  introduction  of  the  Roman  law  into  Germany,  the  increase  of 
international  communication,  both  diplomatic  and  commercial, 
called  for  men  of  training  and  culture.  The  crowds  of  scholars 
that  thronged  the  highways  leading  to  the  great  towns,  the  large 


THE   RENAISSANCE   IN   GERMANY.  7 

attendance  at  the  universities  and  the  crowded  condition  of  the 
lower  schools  give  evidence  of  a  desire  for  intellectual  advance- 
ment which,  when  the  obstacles  in  the  path  of  the  ambitious  stu- 
dent are  taken  into  the  account,  has  never  been  surpassed  in  sub- 
sequent times. 

Other  centres  of  humanism  were  the  courts  of  princes.  Not 
only  were  skilled  Latinists  and  students  of  the  laws  a  necessary 
adjunct  to  the  establishments  of  rulers;  their  ornamental  qualities 
were  equally  in  demand.  After  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury the  greater  German  princes  were  sufficiently  instructed  in 
the  essentials  of  the  new  learning  to  recognize  its  importance  in 
measuring  a  ruler's  appreciation  of  the  modern  spirit. 

Two  emperors  are  associated  with  the  Renaissance  in  Ger- 
many. Frederick  III.,  who  reigned  from  1440  until  1492,  was 
himself  no  humanist,  either  by  education  or  by  inclination,  and 
the  constantly  depleted  condition  of  his  treasury  prevented  any 
considerable  patronage  of  learning.  It  was  only  in  the  reign  of 
his  son  and  successor  Maximilian  I.,  who  by  his  marriage  with 
Mary  of  Burgundy  added  the  rich  provinces  of  the  Netherlands  to 
the  Hapsburg  possessions,  that  the  imperial  court  became  a 
potent  factor  in  the  Renaissance.  Maximilian  was  himself  a  hu- 
manist of  no  small  pretensions.  His  political  duties,  which  were 
of  the  most  complex  and  exacting  nature,  gave  him,  it  is  true, 
little  opportunity  for  actual  composition;  but  in  addition  to  the 
fact  that  he  made  his  court  the  centre  of  intellectual  activity,  he 
even  found  time  to  evolve  the  material  for  two  narratives,  the 
"Teuerdank"  and  the  "  Weisskunig,"  which  his  secretaries, 
under  his  direction,  cast  into  literary  form.  A  more  important 
contribution,  however,  to  the  advancement  of  learning,  was  the 
stimulus  he  afforded  to  the  study  of  German  history.  His  pro- 
ject for  a  great  collection  of  German  monumenta  remained  for 
later  and  wealthier  generations  to  carry  out. 

Maximilian's  interest  in  the  new  learning  was  shown  also  in 
his  affection  for  the  University  of  Vienna,  and  his  personal  atten- 
tion to  its  welfare.  The  proximity  of  Vienna  to  the  Italian 
lands  was  perhaps  a  reason  why  the  intellectual  development  at 
the  imperial  university  was  more  of  a  piece  with  Italian  human- 
ism than  with  the  culture  that  prevailed  at  the  northern  seats  of 
learning.  At  Vienna  the  art  of  Latin  poetry  received  especial 
attention,  and  the  greatest  of  the  German  stylists,  Conrad  Celtes, 


8  SOURCE-BOOK  OF  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

who  produced  many  volumes  of  verse  in  the  manner  of  Ovid  and 
other  classical  poets,  found  the  atmosphere  of  Vienna  most  con- 
ducive to  this  phase  of  humanism.  Here,  under  the  auspices  of 
Maximilian,  a  special  faculty  of  poetry  was  organized,  and  the 
laurel  crown  and  other  insignia  were  conferred  upon  each  appli- 
cant who  gave  satisfactory  evidence  of  possessing  the  qualifica- 
tions of  a  professional  verse-maker. 

Of  another  character  was  the  court  of  the  Elector  of  Sax- 
ony at  Wittenberg.  The  Elector,  Frederick  the  Wise,  is  an 
enigmatical  character,  whose  characteristic  silence  passes,  as  is 
so  often  the  case,  for  evidence  of  latent  strength.  That 
strength,  however,  was  wanting  at  a  critical  moment  in  his 
career,  when,  during  Luther's  absence  at  the  Wartburg,  the  whole 
ecclesiastical  and  social  edifice  seemed  likely  to  fall  about  his 
ears.  The  Elector  was  much  less  a  modern  man  than  Maxi- 
milian, both  in  training  and  in  inclination.  He  knew  little 
L,atin,  and  his  newly  founded  university  at  Wittenberg  bade  fair 
to  be  little  more  than  a  feeble  reflection  of  the  great  humanistic 
centre  at  Erfurt,  until  the  stirring  events  of  151 7,  so  fatal  to  the 
purposes  of  the  humanists,  drew  the  attention  of  the  world  upon 
the  little  Saxon  town  and  supplied  the  Elector  with  one  of  the 
great  rdles  of  modern  history. 

A  more  truly  humanistic  centre  was  the  archiepiscopal  seat 
of  Mainz,  where  the  young  and  energetic  sovereign,  Albert  of 
Brandenburg,  archbishop,  cardinal  and  elector,  gathered  about 
him  a  coterie  of  scholars  for  the  glory  of  his  reign  and  the  embel- 
lishment of  his  court.  So  long  as  rivers  constituted  the  main 
avenues  of  intercourse  in  Europe,  the  Rhine  valley  ever  exhibited 
a  stage  of  material  and  intellectual  progress  in  advance  of  the  less 
accessible  portions  of  Germany.  Mainz  itself,  the  seat  of  the 
new  art  of  printing,  the  last  station  on  the  way  to  the  great  fair  at 
Frankfort,  was  a  point  of  first  importance  on  this  route  of  travel 
and  exchange.  Its  university  was  in  touch  with  Cologne  on  the 
north  and  Heidelberg  on  the  south,  and  as  temporal  ruler  of  a 
wealthy  and  populous  district  the  Elector  was  one  of  the  most 
powerful  princes  of  German}-. 

Next  to  the  imperial  and  princely  courts  the  cities  were  the 
most  important  centres  of  the  new  learning.  Particularly  in 
South  Germany  the  fifteenth  century  witnessed  a  remarkable 
urban  development.     Augsburg,  Nuremberg,  Ratisbon  and  Ulm, 


THE   RENAISSANCE   IN   GERMANY.  9 

distributing  points  for  the  swelling  stream  of  Eastern  wares  that 
poured  into  Central  Europe  by  way  of  Venice  and  the  Alpine 
passes,  became  great  centres  of  wealth,  and  brought  forward  a 
new  and  powerful  social  element,  the  burgher  class,  men  of  the 
new  time,  keenly  alive  to  the  spirit  of  progress,  unhampered 
with  precedent  and  eager  to  take  advantage  of  the  new  opportu- 
nities of  pressing  forward  to  importance  and  distinction.  The 
sons  of  these  shrewd  tradesmen,  reared  in  an  environment  of  in- 
dustry and  thrift,  were  much  more  likely  to  qualify  themselves  for 
positions  in  private  and  in  official  life  requiring  intellectual  skill 
and  technical  knowledge,  than  the  sons  of  a  rash  and  undisci- 
plined nobility,  accustomed  only  to  the  pursuit  of  inclination  and 
pleasure. 

These  men  of  the  upper  middle  class  aided  the  progress  of  hu- 
manism in  various  ways — by  their  patronage  of  artists  and  liter- 
ary men,  for  example.  This  was  of  especial  value  to  literature  at 
a  time  when  the  profits  of  publication  could  hardly  be  expected 
to  afford  a  livelihood.  All  over  Europe  we  find  writers  dedicat- 
ing their  works  and  fugitive  pieces  to  men  of  wealth  and  distinc- 
tion, from  whom  an  honorarium  might  be  expected  in  token  of 
appreciation.  To  stand  in  epistolary  relations  with  so  great  a 
humanist  as  Erasmus  was  an  honor  which  many  a  wealthy  burgher 
felt  well  worth  a  generous  purse.  Even  if  he  did  not  recognize 
that  such  intercourse  would  snatch  him  from  eventual  oblivion, 
yet  the  fact  that  Erasmus'  letters  became  at  once  the  property  of 
the  literary  world  was  sufficient  to  secure  an  honorable  notice 
before  his  contemporaries.  Again,  these  humanistic  procliv- 
ities, particularly  in  the  time  of  Maximilian,  were  often  sufficient 
to  secure  intimate  relations  with  the  imperial  crown.  Conrad 
Peutinger  and  Willibald  Pirckheimer,  distinguished  representa- 
tives of  the  burgher  class  in  Augsburg  and  Nuremberg,  not  only 
materially  increased  their  local  importance,  but  reflected  lustre 
upon  their  native  cities  by  means  of  their  intimate  relations  with 
the  Emperor  Maximilian  and  the  assistance  rendered  him  in  his 
effort  to  collect  the  monuments  of  German  antiquity.  Peutinger 
and  Pirckheimer  were  products  of  the  best  Italian  and  German 
culture,  and  were  themselves  productive  humanists.  Their 
wealth  enabled  them  not  only  to  entertain  and  aid  their  compan- 
ions in  letters,  but  also,  by  their  patronage  of  artists  and  anti- 
quaries, to  accumulate  large  private  collections,  in  which  preroga- 


IO  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE  GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

tive  of  wealth  they  were  pioneers  in  Germany.  Their  affluence 
is  in  direct  contrast  with  the  Grub-street  conditions  which  pre- 
vailed generally  in  literary  circles  at  the  time;  but  the  contrast  is 
softened  and  humanized  by  the  fact  that  their  wealth  was  so  freely 
employed,  both  in  relieving  the  material  needs  of  their  literary 
contemporaries,  and  in  making  possible  the  publication  of  their 
works. 

In  another  manner,  however,  the  cities  contributed  even  more 
largely  to  the  advancement  of  learning.  Their  liberality  in 
the  foundation  of  bursaries  made  it  possible  for  a  multitude  of  stu- 
dents from  rural  parts  to  obtain  such  education  as  only  towns 
afforded.  In  the  eyes  of  the  fifteenth  century  citizen  it  was  one 
of  the  essential  attributes  of  a  large  and  prosperous  town  that  it 
should  be  the  educational  centre  of  its  commercial  territory;  and 
not  only  did  the  bursaries  furnish  lodging  and  warmth  during  the 
winter  season,  but  the  citizens  themselves  supported  with  alms  a 
great  body  of  poor  students  who  spent  their  afternoons  in  singing 
for  bread  through  the  streets.  The  student  and  the  street  musi- 
cian were  one  at  the  beginning  of  modern  times. 

Another  institution  that  contributed  to  the  advancement  and 
direction  of  literary  effort  was  the  society  of  literati  (sodalitas  lit- 
eraria).  There  were  two  of  these  in  Germany,  the  Danubian  and 
the  Rhenish  (sodalitates  Dantibiana  et  Rhenand).  The  former  had 
its  permanent  home  at  Vienna,  where  it  enjoyed  the  patron- 
age of  the  Emperor,  and  the  personal  interests  of  its  most  import- 
ant member,  Conrad  Celtes,  threw  its  activity  almost  exclusively 
into  the  direction  of  verse-production.  The  Rhenish  society  had 
no  such  distinctive  seat,  but  included  in  its  membership  the  pa- 
trician humanists  of  Augsburg  and  Nuremberg,  the  learned 
bishop  of  Worms,  Johann  von  Dalberg  (1445-1503),  the  Heidel- 
berg literary  group,  and  Johannes  Trithemius  (1462-1516),  abbot 
of  Sponheim,  famous  not  only  for  his  general  literary  activity,  but 
also  on  account  of  his  supposed  magical  powers,  to  which  a  still 
credulous  age  attributed  much  importance. 

It  is  by  comparing  these  German  societies  with  the  academies 
of  Italy  that  we  are  able  to  arrive  at  the  general  relation  of  the 
German  to  the  Italian  Renaissance.  The  German  movement  is 
of  a  homelier  and  less  aspiring  character.  While  the  Florentine 
academy  sought  nothing  less  than  a  restoration  of  Greek  philoso- 
phy, the  Danubian  society  was  content  with  paraphrasing  Ovid 


THE  RENAISSANCE   IN   GERMANY.  II 

and  Virgil.  The  Roman  academy  undertook  to  discern  and  in- 
terpret the  antiquities  of  that  centre  of  the  classical  world,  while 
the  Rhenish  society  attempted  nothing  more  ambitious  than  the 
publication  of  the  works  of  the  nun  Hrotsvitha. 

But  if  German  humanists  failed  to  inoculate  their  fellow  citi- 
zens with  the  philosophic  spirit  of  Greece  and  Rome,  they  at 
least  discovered  many  practical  applications  of  their  learning,  and 
opened  the  way  toward  a  larger  view  of  human  life.  That  the 
spirit  of  theological  strife  descended  and  closed  this  way,  and 
filled  the  arena  with  internecine  struggle,  so  that  for  two  centu- 
ries Germany  was  shut  out  from  the  van  of  European  progress, 
was  a  result  which  the  ablest  of  German  humanists  predicted  at 
the  opening  of  the  Lutheran  controversy.  It  was  not  the  way 
Erasmus  would  have  chosen.  Whether  it  led,  after  a  lapse  of 
centuries,  to  as  good  or  to  better  results,  is  one  of  the  problems  of 
history  for  whose  solution  the  material  will  ever  be  wanting. 


12  SOURCE- BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

RUDOLF  AGRICOLA. 

Rudolf  Agricola,  or  Rudolf  Hustnann  as  he  was  called  before  the  adoption 
of  his  scholarly  name,  was  born  in  1443  near  Grouingen  in  Friesland.  His 
parents  were  in  modest  circumstances.  Agricola  received  his  elementary  edu- 
cation in  Groningen;  at  Erfurt  he  attained  to  his  baccalaureate  degree  and 
went  thence  to  Lowen  in  Brabant  for  mathematics  and  philosophy.  Agri- 
cola's  disposition  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  during  his  residence  in  Brabant  he 
avoided,  so  far  as  possible,  the  rough  and  roystering  life  of  his  countrymen, 
and  sought  the  more  refined  and  elegant  society  of  the  French.  At  the  age 
of  sixteen  he  received  the  master's  degree  at  Lowen,  and  continued  his 
theological  studies  at  Cologne.  At  the  age  of  23  he  went  to  Pavia,  and  there 
took  up  the  study  of  law,  in  accordance  with  the  wish  of  his  family  and 
friends.  His  interest  in  the  law  was  feeble,  however,  and  as  time  advanced 
he  gave  himself  up  to  the  study  of  classical  literature.  In  Pavia  he  became 
acquainted  with  Johann  von  Dalberg,  who  afterwards  became  bishop  of 
Worms,  and  remained  on  terms  of  intimacy  with  this  influential  man  during 
the  remainder  of  his  life.  In  order  to  pursue  to  better  advantage  the  study 
of  Greek,  Agricola  went  to  Ferrara,  where  he  remained  six  or  seven  years  at 
the  court  of  Hercules  of  Este.  His  presence  here  was  the  more  appreciated 
on  account  of  his  musical  skill  and  his  contribution  to  the  services  of  the 
ducal  chapel. 

Upon  Agricola's  return  from  Italy  he  spent  three  years  in  his  native 
country,  residing  mostly  in  Groningen.  In  1484,  at  the  urgent  request  of  his 
friend,  von  Dalberg,  who  in  1482  had  been  chosen  bishop  of  Worms,  he 
made  his  residence  at  Heidelberg.  Here  he  took  up  the  study  of  Hebrew, 
with  the  intention  of  revising  the  Latin  version  of  the  Old  Testament.  In 
1485  von  Dalberg  and  Agricola  made  the  journey  to  Rome  together.  On 
the  homeward  journey  he  fell  sick  and  reached  Heidelberg  only  to  die  in 
the  arms  of  his  friend  and  patron,  at  the  age  of  46. 

In  his  habits  and  talk  Agricola  more  nearly  resembled  the  Italians  than 
the  Germans  of  his  time.  His  interests  were  in  music  and  painting,  rather 
than  in  the  coarser  pleasures  of  his  countrymen.  One  of  the  earliest  of 
German  humanists,  his  inclinations  and  extensive  Italian  experience  made 
him  the  most  polished  of  the  group. 

Agricola's  chief  work  was  De  inventione  dialedica,  begun  in  Ferrara  and 
finished  in  1479  m  Germany.  He  left  also  many  letters,  several  translations 
and  lesser  works,  including  a  biography  of  Petrarch  (written  at  Pavia  in 
I477).  whose  personality  he  much  admired. 

FROM   A  LETTER  TO  JACOB   BARBIRIANUS.* 

In  the  arrangement  of  your  studies  two  considerations,  it 
seems  to  me,  come  prominently  forward.  In  the  first  place,  it  is 
necessary  to  determine  what  department  of  knowledge  shall  be 

*Sammlung  der  bedeutendsten  padagogischen  Schriften  aus  alter  und 
neuer  Zeit.     15.  Band.     Paderborn,  1893. 


RUDOLF   AGRICOLA.  13 

chosen.  Then  you  must  consider  by  what  method  it  is  possible 
to  achieve  the  greatest  success  in  the  department  already  chosen. 
I  wish  to  make  myself  clear  on  both  these  points.  For  some 
persons  the  compelling  force  of  circumstances,  having  its  origin 
either  in  external  conditions  or  in  natural  capacity,  determines  tha 
choice  of  a  profession.  Others,  on  the  contrary,  turn  with  a  free- 
dom of  selection  to  that  which  they  hold  to  be  the  best.  If,  for 
example,  one  has  limited  resources,  he  turns  to  that  occupation 
in  which  he  may  hope  to  secure  for  himself,  in  the  briefest  possi- 
ble space  of  time,  the  means  for  satisfying  the  needs  of  his  exist- 
ence. If,  furthermore,  one  is  by  nature  less  energetic  and  pos- 
sesses a  weak  intelligence,  then  for  fear  of  wasting  his  effort 
he  may  not  select  that  department  which  in  fact  most  appeals  to 
him,  but  will  be  obliged  to  select  that  in  which  he  may  achieve 
the  greatest  success.  In  the  same  wajr  would  he  err,  to  whom 
abundant  means  and  fortunate  spiritual  gifts  have  been  confided, 
if  with  all  his  strength  he  did  not  pursue  the  highest  aims,  or  if 
able  to  reach  the  highest  place,  he  should  content  himself  with 
the  second  or  the  third.  Therefore  one  chooses  the  civil,  another 
the  canon  law,  and  still  a  third  medicine.  Very  many  devote 
themselves  to  those  wordy  utterances  resounding  with  empty  ver- 
bal contests,  which  are  so  often  mistaken  for  knowledge.  They 
pass  their  days  in  labored  and  interminable  disputations,  or,  to 
use  an  expression  much  to  the  point,  with  riddles,  which  in  the 
course  of  many  centuries  have  found  no  Oedipus  to  solve  them, 
nor  ever  will  find  him.  With  these  things  they  torture  the  ears 
of  the  unfortunate  youth.  Such  nourishment  they  provide  for 
their  pupils,  with  force,  so  to  speak.  In  this  manner  they  kill  the 
most  promising  talents,  and  destroy  the  fruit  while  yet  in  the  blos- 
som. Nevertheless,  I  commend  all  these  intellectual  exercises, 
and  would  commend  them  still  more,  if  they  were  undertaken  in 
a  proper  and  orderly  manner.  For  I  am  not  so  foolish  as  alone  to 
condemn  what  so  many  praise.  Why  should  I  too  not  approve  it, 
when  I  see  that  many  thereby  have  attained  to  wealth,  position, 
esteem,  fame  and  distinction  ?  Indeed  I  know  and  willingly  ac- 
knowledge that  many  of  the  sciences,  as  Cicero  says,  are  more 
easily  converted  into  gain  than  others,  of  which  it  is  said  they 
are  unfruitful  and  resultless,  since  the}'  enrich  the  spirit  rather 
than  the  pocket.  If  then  you  have  gain  in  mind,  you  must 
choose  one  of  the  much  celebrated  professions,  by  the  practice  of 


14  SOURCE-BOOK    OP   THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

which  you  may  become  rich.  At  the  same  time,  you  must 
always  remember  that  the  fame  which  you  secure  in  this  manner, 
you  always  have  in  common  with  every  clever  man  of  business. 
But  if  you  cherish  the  juster  view,  that  that  which  is  noble 
should  be  pursued  for  its  own  sake,  and  if  you  are  persuaded  that 
your  resources  are  sufficient  for  your  modest  demands— for  when 
our  demands  are  excessive  even  the  slender  means  of  others 
seem  to  us  too  great,  and  our  own,  on  the  contrary,  were  they 
ever  so  great,  too  small — then  I  advise  you  to  turn  your  attention 
to  philosophy;  by  which  I  mean  to  say,  give  yourself  the  trouble 
to  acquire  a  competent  knowledge  of  things  in  general,  and  the 
ability  to  express  adequately  what  you  know.  This  knowledge, 
like  the  essence  of  the  things  that  form  its  subject,  is  twofold, 
one  branch  relating  to  our  acts  and  customs.  Upon  it  reposes 
the  whole  theory  of  a  proper  and  well  regulated  manner  of 
living.  This  sphere  of  philosophical  activity  furnishes  the  sci- 
ence of  ethics.  It  is  of  the  first  importance,  and  deserves  our 
special  attention.  It  is  to  be  sought  for,  not  only  among  the 
philosophers,  who  treat  it  as  a  branch  of  literature,  as  for  exam- 
ple, Aristotle,  Cicero,  Seneca  and  others,  who  have  written  in 
I,atin,  or  who  at  least  have  been  translated  into  L,atin,  so  that  it 
is  worth  while  to  read  them;  but  also  among  the  historians, 
poets  and  orators.  They  teach  morality,  not  systematically,  it  is 
true,  but  they  indicate  it — and  this  is  indeed  the  most  effective — 
in  their  praise  of  the  good  and  their  blame  of  the  evil,  and  by 
their  use  of  examples  of  virtue  and  its  antithesis  by  way  of  illus- 
tration. By  reading  them,  you  arrive  at  the  contemplation  of 
the  Scriptures;  because  you  must  arrange  your  life  in  accordance 
with  their  injunctions;  to  the  Bible  you  must  trust,  as  to  a  cer- 
tain guide  in  matters  of  the  soul's  salvation.  All  that  which  is 
furnished^from  other  sources  is  more  or  less  mixed  with  error; 
for  they  did  not  succeed  in  constructing  an  ideal  of  life  that  was 
absolutely  correct  and  irreproachable  in  every  respect.  Either 
they  did  not  recognize  the  object  and  purpose  of  life,  or  they  had 
only  indistinct  perceptions,  and  looked,  so  to  speak,  through  a 
veil  of  cloud.  Therefore,  although  they  talked  much  about  these 
matters,  it  was  not  because  they  were  thoroughly  permeated  with 
their  doctrine.  It  is  otherwise  with  Holy  Writ.  That  is  as 
far  removed  from  all  error  as  God,  who  has  given  it  to  us;  it 
alone  leads  us  on  the  sure  and  certain  way.     It  removes  all  ob- 


RUDOLF   AGRICOLA.  1 5 

scurity,  and  permits  us  not  to  be  deceived,  to  lose  ourselves,  or  go 
astray. 

There  are,  however,  other  things,  a  knowledge  of  which  serves 
rather  to  adorn  the  spirit,  and  the  exploration  of  which  must  be 
regarded  rather  as  a  noble  pleasure  than  as  a  necessary  condition  of 
existence.  Here  belong  the  investigations  into  the  essence  of  things. 
Multiform  and  manifold  is  this  domain,  and  upon  its  various  sides 
it  has  been  treated  by  talented  men,  gifted  with  the  power  of  ex- 
pression. If  this  sort  of  activity  is  not  absolutely  necessary  for 
the  development  of  a  moral  man,  at  least  it  contributes  not  a  lit- 
tle thereto;  for  when  a  true  interest  in  scientific  investigation  has 
once  seized  upon  a  man,  there  is  no  more  room  in  his  soul  for  low 
and  common-place  effort.  That  man  learns  to  despise  and  belittle 
things  which  the  common  herd  gazes  upon  with  admiration.  He 
pities  those  who  are  held  to  be  fortunate  on  account  of  the  pos- 
session of  such  things,  because  he  recognizes  how  vain  and  transi- 
tory are  these  possessions  in  their  nature,  and  because  he  recog- 
nizes that  no  greater  misfortune  could  fall  upon  the  universe  than 
that  all  its  parts,  even  the  most  subordinate,  should  be  transformed 
into  such  things  as  gold  and  jewels,  to  which  the  blindness  of 
humanity  has  attributed  so  high  a  value.  With  the  aid  of  this 
knowledge  we  recognize  also  the  frailty  and  transitory  nature  of 
our  bodies,  exposed  to  the  mutability  of  events.  Thereby  we  see 
that  we  must  give  our  whole  attention  to  the  soul,  that  to  its  care 
we  must  devote  our  time,  since  in  its  care  no  pains  are  thrown 
away,  no  success  is  perishable.  I  pass  over  much  in  my  discus- 
sion, for  everything  that  could  be  said  in  this  connection  would 
fill  a  book  and  not  merely  a  single  letter.  It  is  sufficient,  more- 
over, to  have  merely  indicated  what  is  already  known  to  you, 
that  this  branch  of  knowledge  is  worthy  the  highest  efforts  of  an 
able  man. 

I  am  not  willing,  however,  that  you  should  assimilate  merely 
the  rudiments  of  this  science  as  at  present — we  are  conscious  of 
it  daily — it  is  presented  in  the  schools;  for  that  you  have  already 
done  with  zeal  and  willingness,  in  a  manner  worthy  of  recogni- 
tion. It  is  rather  my  meaning  that  you  must  come  nearer  to  the 
things  themselves,  and  investigate  the  situation  and  the  natural 
qualities  of  countries,  mountains  and  rivers,  the  customs  of  peo- 
ples, their  boundaries  and  their  conditions,  the  territorial  posses- 
sions which  they  have  inherited  or  extended,  the  virtues  of  trees 


1 6  SOURCE- BOOK    OF  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

and  plants,  which  Theophrastus  has  recounted,  and  the  history  of 
living  creatures,  which  Aristotle  has  treated  from  the  literary  point 
of  view.  Why  should  I  further  mention  the  literary  treatment  of 
agriculture  and  of  medicine  ?  These  authors  have  written  in  many 
fields,  one  on  the  art  of  war,  another  on  architecture,  a  third  on 
painting  and  sculpture.  These  arts,  it  is  true,  do  not  belong  ex- 
actly to  that  part  of  knowledge  which  explores  the  essence 
of  things,  but  they  are  related  to  it,  nevertheless,  and  spring, 
so  to  speak,  from  the  same  source.  Therefore,  I  have  no  reason 
to  be  apprehensive,  if  I  seem  forced  to  present  them  in  the  same 
connection. 

All  that,  however,  which,  as  I  have  said,  has  a  bearing  upon 
our  customs  and  upon  the  nature  of  things,  you  must  obtain  from 
those  authors  who  have  presented  these  things  in  the  clearest 
light.  Then  you  will  acquire  at  once  a  knowledge  of  the  things 
themselves,  and  that  which  I  regard  as  most  important  in  a  sec- 
ondary degree — the  gift  of  suitable  presentation.  You  are  aware, 
moreover,  that  upon  this  point  the  greatest  men  afford  much 
guidance.  But  it  is  necessary  that  you  should  lay  aside  the 
teaching  which  has  been  given  us  as  boys  at  school.  Gather 
up  all  that  you  have  learned  in  this  field,  together  with  the 
prejudices  that  accompany  it,  condemn  it,  and  make  up  your 
mind  to  give  it  up,  unless  you  are  again  put  in  possession  of  it 
through  the  recommendation  of  better  vouchers,  as  though  by 
official  decree.  Therefore  it  will  be  very  useful  for  you  to  trans- 
late everything  that  you  read  in  the  works  of  classical  authors 
into  your  mother  tongue,  using  words  as  apt  and  significant  as 
possible;  for  by  this  exercise  you  will  bring  it  about  that  when 
you  are  obliged  to  speak  or  write,  the  Latin  expressions  will 
evolve  themselves  from  your  mind  in  immediate  connection  with 
their  originals  in  the  vernacular.  If,  moreover,  you  wish  to  com- 
mit something  to  writing,  it  is  recommended  that  you  first  ar- 
range the  material  as  completely  and  correctly  as  possible  in  the 
vernacular,  and  then  proceed  to  express  it  appropriately  and  forc- 
ibly in  pure  Latin.  In  this  manner  the  presentation  will  be  clear 
and  exhaustive;  for  it  is  easier  to  detect  an  error  in  the  vernacu- 
lar. In  the  same  way  every  one  will  notice  most  readily,  in  the 
language  most  familiar  to  him,  whether  a  point  has  been  expressed 
too  obscurely,  too  briefly,  in  too  labored  a  manner,  or  in  a  man- 
ner not  in  keeping  with  the  subject.     In  order  to  avoid  these 


RUDOLF   AGRICOLA.  I  7 

mishaps,  seek  to  express  everything  that  you  write  in  the  purest, 
that  is,  the  most  accurate  Latin  possible.  The  adornment  of  the 
discourse  is  a  matter  of  secondary  importance.  This  can  only  be 
arrived  at  when  the  presentation  is  sound  and  faultless.  It  is 
with  discourse  as  with  the  human  body;  if  all  parts  are  not  in 
suitable  condition  ;  if,  for  example,  they  do  not  possess  the  right 
form  and  size,  it  is  in  vain  that  you  embellish  them  with  objects 
of  adornment.  The  ornament  stands  in  sharp  contrast  to  the 
body  itself,  and  the  foreign  embellishment  makes  the  distortion 
all  the  more  noticeable  by  comparison.  But  enough  of  the 
studies  which  you  must  pursue  in  this  direction. 

It  remains  for  me  to  indicate  the  method  by  means  of  which,  in 
my  opinion,  you  may  reach  the  best  results.  Many,  no  doubt, 
would  differ  with  me,  but  my  view  of  the  matter  is  as  follows: 
Whoever,  in  the  acquisition  of  a  science  will  obtain  a  result  pro- 
portionate with  his  effort,  must  observe  three  things  in  particular: 
He  must  grasp  clearly  and  correctly  that  which  he  learns;  he- 
must  retain  accurately  that  which  he  has  grasped;  and  he  must 
put  himself  in  a  position  to  produce  something  independently,  as 
a  result  of  that  which  he  has  learned.  The  first  requisite,  there- 
fore, is  careful  reading;  the  second,  a  trustworthy  memory;  the 
third,  continuous  exercise.  In  reading,  the  effort  must  be,  to 
thoroughly  penetrate  and  comprehend  in  its  full  meaning  that 
which  is  read.  It  is  not  sufficient  to  understand  what  is  treated 
of;  with  classical  writers  it  is  furthermore  necessary  to  give  your 
attention  to  the  meaning  of  expressions,  to  the  peculiarities  of  ar- 
rangement, to  the  correctness  and  fitness  of  the  diction,  to  the 
balance  of  the  sentences,  and  to  the  ability  of  the  writer  to  clarify 
a  subject,  to  clothe  the  weightiest  and  most  obscure  things  in 
words  and  bring  them  forth  into  the  light  of  publicity.  It  must 
not  be  said,  however,  that  when  by  chance  we  come  across  a  pas- 
sage in  itself  obscure,  or  at  least  unintelligible  to  us,  we  shall 
stop  and  go  no  further.  Many  throw  their  book  at  once  aside, 
give  up  their  studies  entirely,  or  bewail  their  limited  intelligence. 
On  the  contrary,  we  persevere  in  our  efforts,  and  are  not  neces- 
sarily vexed.  If  you  find  something,  the  meaning  of  which  you 
cannot  at  once  determine,  it  is  best  to  pass  over  it  for  the  moment, 
and  reserve  it  for  another  opportunity,  until  you  find  a  man  or  a 
book  that  will  afford  an  explanation.  Oftentimes  repeated  reading 
is  sufficient  to  clear  the  matter  up;  for  one  day  teaches  the  next, 
2 


18  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE   GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

as  I  am  fond  of  saying.  If  Quintilian  reckoned  it  among  the 
virtues  of  a  grammarian  to  be  ignorant  of  many  things,  how 
much  more,  I  will  not  say  necessary,  but  indeed  pardonable  it  is 
in  our  case,  if  we  now  and  then  are  ignorant  of  something.  I 
wish  above  all  things,  however,  not  to  give  the  impression  that  in 
this  discussion  I  am  making  a  plea  for  superficiality.  On  the  con- 
trary! I  believe  that  there  is  no  way  in  which  I  can  more  effectu- 
ally put  a  spur  to  zeal  than  by  making  it  clear,  how  by  reading 
itself  one  opens  the  way  to  comprehension;  and  that  all  difficul- 
ties which  arise  in  reading  are  by  reading  itself  set  aside. 

The  next  requisite  is  an  accurate  memory.  Memory  depends 
immediately  upon  natural  qualities;  but  even  here  art  may  be 
helpful.  This  art  has  been  presented  in  various  ways  by  differ- 
ent teachers.  Nevertheless  the  essentials  are  the  same.  This 
art  seems  to  me  especially  adapted  for  two  sorts  of  uses.  It  often 
happens  that  you  are  compelled  to  speak  or  to  bring  forward  a 
great  number  of  things  without  special  preparation.  The  danger 
is  that  you  will  fail  in  respect  of  consecutiveness  or  in  respect  of 
completeness.  If,  for  example,  3rou  have  to  present  certain 
claims  before  a  prince  or  before  a  senate,  or  you  are  obliged  to 
reply  to  the  arguments  of  an  opponent,  then  you  will  most  ap- 
propriately seek  help  in  this  art.  If  it  is  desirable  to  exercise  the 
memory,  however,  it  can  best  be  done  in  the  following  manner: 
That  this  method  for  the  strengthening  of  the  memory  is  in  the 
highest  degree  beneficial  Quintilian  assures  us,  and  experience 
teaches  us  as  well,  if  we  but  make  the  trial;  for  the  memory, 
quite  as  much  as  any  other  gift,  is  capable  of  being  strengthened 
by  frequent  exercise,  or  of  being  weakened  b)7  a  lack  of  interest 
or  by  neglect.  If  it  is  wished  that  certain  things  should  be 
firmty  lodged  in  our  mind,  it  is  necessary  first  of  all  to  grasp  them 
as  intensively  as  possible,  then  to  reproduce  them  as  frequently  as 
possible,  and  thereby  establish  the  highest  degree  of  certainty 
conceivable.  Finally,  we  must  take  up  this  exercise  when  our 
spirit  is  otherwise  unoccupied  and  free  from  the  burden  of  press- 
ing thoughts.  For,  let  us  do  what  we  will,  it  still  remains  an 
established  fact  that  we  cannot  do  two  things  properly  at  the 
same  time.  True  it  is,  as  Sallust  says,  that  the  mind  is  strongest 
when  a  strain  is  put  upon  it;  but  it  cannot  possibly  be  effective 
when  it  is  directed  into  several  channels  at  the  same  time.  The 
third  and  last  point  that  I    have  to  raise  treats  of   the  art  and 


RUDOLPH    AGRICOLA.  '  1 9 

manner  in  which  we  may  derive  an  individual  benefit  from  what 
we  have  learned,  and  bring  our  knowledge  to  light;  for  the  pro- 
ducts of  our  effort  ought  not  to  remain  idle  and  unfruitful  in  the 
depths  of  our  minds,  but  like  seed  corn,  which  has  been  entrusted 
to  the  earth,  they  should  bring  forth  abundant  increase.  This 
subject  is  very  comprehensive  and  productive.  It  deserves  an 
extensive  treatment,  which  I  have  in  mind  for  some  further  op- 
portunity; for  upon  this  question  depends  the  principal  reward 
for  a  long-continued  effort  and  for  much  trouble  expended  in  pur- 
suit of  knowledge.  That  is  to  say,  if  we  can  leave  nothing  to 
posterity,  can  transmit  nothing  to  our  contemporaries  beyond 
that  which  we  ourselves  have  appropriated,  what  difference  is 
there  then  between  us  and  a  book?  Hardly  more  than  this,  that 
a  book  preserves  with  accuracy  for  all  future  time  that  which  it 
has  once  taken  to  itself,  while  we  must  frequently  repeat  and  im- 
press that  which  we  have  appropriated,  in  order  that  we  may 
retain  it  permanently.  In  this  connection  two  requisites  make 
themselves  apparent.  Each  is  in  and  for  itself  something  great 
and  fine,  but  the  union  of  the  two  in  an  intellectual  career  unques- 
tionably deserves  especial  recognition.  The  first  requisite  is  this: 
All  that  we  have  learned  we  must  have  in  constant  readiness  for 
immediate  use.  For  you  frequently  find  people  who  have  ac- 
quired much  and  who  remember  many  things,  but  they  are  una- 
ble to  recollect  just  the  things  of  which  they  have  especial  need. 
These  people  indeed  know  many  things,  but  they  have  no  exact 
knowledge  of  anything.  The  second  requisite  is  the  ability  to 
discover  and  produce  something  outside  the  area  of  our  acquisi- 
tion, something  that  we  may  ascribe  to  ourselves  and  put  forward 
as  our  own  spiritual  property.  In  this  direction  two  things 
afford  us  great  aid.  In  the  first  place,  we  must  establish  certain 
rubrics,  for  example,  virtue  and  vice,  life  and  death,  wisdom  and 
ignorance,  benevolence  and  hate,  etc.  They  are  suitable  for  all 
occasions.  We  must  recall  them  frequently,  and,  so  far  as  possi- 
ble, arrange  under  them  everything  that  we  have  learned,  or  at 
least  everything  that  we  are  learning.  Then  by  each  repetition 
of  the  rubrics,  everything  that  we  have  arranged  under  them  will 
be  recalled;  and  finally,  it  will  come  about  that  everything  we 
have  learned  will  be  always  present,  before  our  eyes,  so  to  speak. 
It  will  often  happen,  however,  that  an  example  or  a  sentence 
may  be  brought  under  various  rubrics.     Thus,  for  example,  you 


20  SOURCEBOOK    OF   THE   GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

may  place  the  account  of  the  violation  of  Lucretia  under  the  head 
of  Chastity,  because  it  teaches  us  how  highly  this  should  be  val- 
ued, when  Lucretia  believed  she  must  repurchase  it  at  the  price 
of  her  life.  It  goes  equally  well  under  the  head  of  Beauty,  for  it 
shows  us  how  great  sorrow  this  may  cause,  and  how  greatly  it 
endangers  chastity.  It  may  be  included  also  under  the  rubric 
Death;  for  death  is  no  evil,  since  Lucretia  preferred  it  to  a  life  of 
shame.  The  account  comes  also  in  the  chapter  of  Lust,  for  it 
shows  how  this  moral  weakness  has  caused  misfortune  and  war. 
It  also  justifies  the  aphorism  that  great  evil  often  produces  great 
good,  for  the  whole  circumstance  brought  to  the  Roman  people 
their  free  constitution.  In  a  similar  manner  the  saying,  est  virtus 
placitis  abstinisse  bo?iisl  may  be  classified  in  various  ways.  It 
may  be  placed  under  the  head  of  Virtue,  for  it  is  reckoned  a  virtue 
to  abstain  from  the  benefits  that  fall  to  us.  The  rubric  Benefits 
may  also  come  in  requisition,  since  not  all  benefits  are  worthy  of 
effort.     The  idea  of  Continence  may  also  be  considered. 

In  the  second  place,  in  everything  that  we  learn  we  must  care- 
fully consider,  compare  and  thoroughly  elucidate  the  individual 
expressions.  Let  us  take,  for  example,  a  sentence  from  Virgil: 
Optima  quaeque  dies  miseris  mortalibus  aevi  prima  fugit?  First  of 
all,  the  poet  says  optima;  how  must  we  value  benefits,  when 
those  which  we  consider  best  of  all  not  only  vanish,  but  hasten 
awa3>-  and  torture  us  with  fear  in  the  face  of  a  hopeless  future, 
which  seems  the  more  depressing  when  we  contrast  it  with  condi- 
tions that  have  gone  before  ?  Then  follow  the  words  dies  aevi, 
the  day  of  life  ;  how  slight  must  that  be  reckoned,  if  it  is  so  fleet- 
ing, and  the  best  it  contains  is  destroyed  at  its  beginning,  in  its 
bloom,  so  to  speak  !  What  joy  can  there  be  in  life,  when  those 
who  rejoice  in  it  are  called,  not  only  mortals,  but  also  miserable  ? 
Why  should  they  not  be  so  called  ?  Are  not  their  goods  and  their 
very  lives  as  fleeting  as  the  day  itself !  They  are  indeed  made 
subject  to  the  law  of  death.  Finally  come  the  words  prima  fugit. 
We  have  not  come  to  know  the  day  sufficiently  well  through  use 
of  it.  Therefore,  all  that  follows,  no  matter  how  good  in  itself, 
seems  cruel  in  remembrance  of  that  which  is  lost.  The  day  van- 
ishes, is  not  released  or  sent  away.     How  deceptive  and  how  un- 

1  It  is  a  virtue  to  renounce  the  things  that  please  us. 

*  The  happiest  day  of  life  most  quickly  escapes  unhappy  mortals. 


RUDOLPH    AGRICOLA.  21 

certain  is  fortune  !  How  little  is  it  in  our  power  !  How  little 
does  it  depend  upon  our  approbation  ! 

If,  then,  you  will  pursue  such  a  subject  through  all  the  points 
of  dialectic — that  is  to  say,  of  course,  so  far  as  it  responds  to  your 
spiritual  disposition — you  will  find  yourself  in  possession  of  abun- 
dant material  for  presentation,  and  also  for  your  inventive  facul- 
ties to  work  upon.  The  method,  however,  I  cannot  perfectly 
present  in  the  narrow  compass  of  a  letter.  I  have  treated  this 
question  more  at  length  in  the  three  books  Dc  invention?  dialeclica. 

Whoever  carries  out  these  instructions  properly  and  carefully, 
especially  when  the  theoretical  development  of  dialectic  is  added 
thereto,  will  obtain  in  a  high  degree  the  ability,  which  will  be 
alwa)'s  at  his  command,  of  discoursing  over  almost  any  theme 
that  may  be  presented.  It  must  be  assumed,  of  course,  that  the 
theme  concerns  that  department  of  knowledge  with  which  he  is 
acquainted.  It  is  in  this  manner,  it  seems  to  me,  that  the  old 
masters,  whom  the  Greeks  called  Sophists,  that  is,  wise  men, 
have  developed  their  powers,  and  attained  to  so  great  readiness 
and  ability  in  discourse,  that  they,  as  is  seen  in  the  case  of  Plato 
and  of  Aristotle,  caused  any  theme  whatsoever  to  be  advanced, 
and  then  discoursed  upon  it  as  extensively  as  was  desired. 

Thus  Gorgias  of  L,eontini,  the  originator  of  so  bold  an  under- 
taking, thus  Prodicus  of  Ceos,  thus  Protagoras  of  Abdera  and 
Hippias  of  Elis  have  first  educated  themselves  and  then  taught 
others.  Moreover,  that  which  I  have  treated  of  in  the  second  in- 
stance will  afford  great  capacity  for  judgment  in  the  appropriation 
of  knowledge,  and  lead  to  new  demonstrations,  to  new  conclusions, 
or  at  least  to  a  new  arrangement  of  those  already  on  hand.  When 
to  this  a  suitable  style  is  added,  eloquence  is  attained  and  the 
way  is  opened  to  the  attainment  of  oratorical  distinction.  Put 
enough  of  this!     Demetrius  of  Phalerus,  in  hi-  Tvefoj,1  says 

that  a  too  extensive  letter  is  really  no  letter,  but  a  book  with  a 
formula  of  salutation  at  its  beginning.  Whatever  may  be  thought 
of  this  disturbs  me  not;  for  I  have  set  myself  the  task  of  further- 
ing in  ever}'  possible  way  your  studies,  and  in  the  event  of  my 
failure,  to  show  at  least  that  I  have  made  the  effort.  The  will 
may  indeed  be  of  little  account,  if  measured  by  the  result;  but  in 
the  domain  of  friendship,  where  the  will  stands  for  the  deed,  it 
has  so  great  a  value  that  nothing  greater  can  be  asked  or  given. 

1  Exposition. 


22  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE    GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

And  now  to  add  a  word  concerning  my  personal  affairs,  let  me 
tell  you  that  on  the  second  of  May  I  came  to  Heidelberg.  My 
lord,  the  bishop,  received  me  kindly,  and  has  shown  me  nothing 
but  amiability  and  benevolence.  Let  me  tell  you  of  my  folly,  or, 
to  speak  more  accurately,  of  my  stupidity.  I  have  resolved  to 
learn  Hebrew,  as  though  I  had  not  spent  enough  time  and  pains 
on  the  little  Greek  that  I  have  acquired.  I  found  a  teacher,  who 
a  few  years  before  accepted  our  faith.  The  Jews  themselves  gave 
him  credit  for  an  extensive  acquaintance  with  their  learning,  and 
were  accustomed  to  oppose  him  to  our  theologians,  when  they 
were  challenged  to  disputations  on  the  subject  of  religion.  Out 
of  kindness  to  me  the  bishop  undertook  to  care  for  him  at  the 
court.  I  shall  do  the  best  I  can,  and  hope  to  accomplish  some- 
thing. Perhaps  I  shall  arrive  at  this  result,  because  I  am  confi- 
dent of  doing  so.  Joseph  Rink  has  informed  me  of  your  misfor- 
tune. It  came  to  you  from  a  source,  as  I  well  know,  whence  it 
was  most  difficult  to  endure.  I  am  not  certain  whether  I  most 
lament  your  misfortune  or  such  perfidiousness.  At  any  rate  I 
have  sympathized  deeply  with  you  in  your  sorrow,  and  should 
have  given  my  sympathy  expression  in  an  elegy — this  form  of  verse 
being  specially  adapted  for  such  complaint — had  I  been  so  quiet 
and  collected  that  I  might  have  brought  myself  to  poetical  com- 
position. I  beg  of  you,  send  me  something  in  the  way  of  vocal 
music  of  your  own  composition;  but  something  finished,  that  will 
earn  you  praise.  We  have  singers  here  to  whom  I  have  often 
spoken  of  you.  Their  leader  composes  for  nine  and  twelve  voices. 
Of  his  compositions  for  three  or  four  voices  I  have  heard  nothing 
that  especially  pleased  me.  But  my  impression  is  in  no  sense  a 
proper  judgment;  very  likely  his  compositions  are  too  good  for  my 
limited  comprehension.  Farewell,  and  be  assured  of  my  friend- 
ship; give  my  regards  to  the  distinguished  and  learned  m agister, 
Ambrosius  Dinter,  our  Nicholas  Haga,  the  elegantly  cultured 
magister,  Jacob  Crabbe,  your  neighbor,  and  especially  to  Joseph 
Rink,  an  amiable  j'oung  man,  who  is  very  devoted  to  you. 

The  verses  which  I  sent  you  I  have  carefully  read  through  a  sec- 
ond time.  I  found  three  or  four  errors  in  the  poem  to  Mother 
Anna;  the  printer  had  transposed  the  letters.  Therefore  I  send 
you  this  manuscript,  in  order  that  you  may  correct  your  copy  by 
it.  See  to  it,  I  beg  of  you,  that  this,  together  with  the  letter,  is 
delivered  to  the  regular  canon  of  St.  Martin's,  Adam  Jordan  in 


JACOB    WIMPIIEUNG.  23 

Lowen.     Again  farewell !     Heidelberg,  June  7,  1484.     Send  me 
exact  information  concerning  your  affairs  through  this  messenger. 

JACOB  WIMPHELING. 

Jacob  Wimpheling  (1450-1528)  was  born  at  Schlettstadt,  in  tbe  Upper 
Rhine  country.  His  education  was  acquired  in  the  schools  of  his  native  town 
and  at  the  universities  of  Freiburg,  Erfurt  and  Heidelberg.  Although  for  a 
considerable  time  connected  with  the  university  of  Heidelberg  in  the  capa- 
city of  teacher,  the  most  productive  period  of  Wimpheling's  life  was  spent 
at  Strasburg,  where  his  more  important  works  were  written.  These  works 
were  mostly  paedagogical.  The  Isidoneus,  a  guide  for  the  German  youth; 
the  Adolescentia,  of  a  similar  character,  and  the  Agatharchia,  or  book  for 
the  direction  of  princes,  were  all  of  them  attempts  to  raise  the  standard  oj 
education  in  Germany.  The  Germania,  written  in  1501,  during  Wimphel- 
ing's residence  at  Strasburg,  was  an  appeal  to  that  municipality  to  establish 
an  advanced  system  of  public  schools.  Incidentally,  however,  he  appealed 
to  the  sentiment  of  German  patriotism,  defending  the  thesis  that  Alsace  had 
ever  been  a  German  land  ;  a  contention  which  was  opposed  by  another 
famous  German  humanist,  Thomas  Murner  (1475-1537).  Out  of  this  differ- 
ence of  opinion  arose  one  of  the  most  celebrated  literary  controversies  of 
the  time. 

Wimpheling's  interest  in  educational  matters  won  for  him  the  distin- 
guished title  of  the  "Schoolmaster  of  Germany."  His  writings  obtained  a 
wide  circulation  and  did  much  to  determine  the  character  of  German  educa- 
tion for  two  centuries.  Apart  from  this  special  work,  Wimpheling  was  a 
typical  humanist  of  the  earlier  type,  selecting  his  material  with  reference  to 
its  value  for  purposes  of  Christian  culture,  and  possessing  all  the  homely  and 
substantial  virtues  of  his  race.  He  valued  the  new  learning  chiefly  for  its 
adaptability  to  the  purposes  of  practical  life,  and  the  methods  he  advocated 
looked  to  the  production  of  able  and  conscientious  men  rather  than  accom- 
plished scholars. 

KXTRACTS    FROM   THE   IsidoncitS. 

Chapter  25  :  The  Study  of  Creek. 
In  the  matter  of  Greek  I  am  not  competent  to  render  judgment 
or  give  an  estimate,  since  in  the  best  years  of  my  youth  I  had  no 
teacher  in  this  branch.  If  I  wished  to  follow  the  example  of 
Marcus  Cato,  and  learn  it  in  my  mature  years,  there  would  be  no 
lack  of  excellent  teachers  in  Germany.  Thus  Rudolph  Agricola 
has  learned  and  taught  Greek.  Johannes  Camerarius  Dalberg, 
Bishop  of  Worms,  devotes  himself  with  ardor  to  the  study  of 
Greek — he  who  is  the  ornament  of  Germany,  the  glory  of  his  gen- 

Sammlung  der  bedeutendsteu  padagogischen  Schriften.  Band  13.  Pader- 
born,  1S92. 


24  SOURCE- BOOK    OF   THE   GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

eration,  the  especial  pride  of  Duke  Philip  of  Bavaria,  the  crown  of 
bishops — he  whom,  on  account  of  his  astonishing  erudition,  I  re- 
gard as  born  for  something  even  more  distinguished.  With  no 
slight  ardor  does  Johannes  Trithemius,  Sponheim's  pious  abbot, 
devote  himself  to  the  study  of  Greek.  Among  those  who  at  the 
present  time  are  competent  to  teach  Greek  is  also  Johannes  Cap- 
nion,  or  as  he  is  commonly  called,  Reuchlin  of  Pforzheim,  and  the 
poet  laureate,  Conrad  Celtes.  It  is,  moreover,  well  known  that 
Augustine  in  his  second  book  of  Christian  Doctrine  advances  the 
opinion  that  for  those  who  speak  Latin  a  knowledge  of  Greek  is 
necessary  for  the  understanding  of  Holy  Writ.  It  is  also  known 
that  teachers  out  of  their  ignorance  of  this  tongue  have  commu- 
nicated much  of  error  to  their  pupils.  For  example,  they  were  of 
the  belief  that  the  name  of  Christ,  which  was  written  by  our  an- 
cestors, who  for  the  most  part  knew  Greek,  with  three  Greek 
letters,  XPC,  had  been  incorrectly  indicated  with  three  Latin  let- 
ters, although  it  is  beyond  doubt  that  the  first  of  these  three  let- 
ters indicated  to  the  Greeks  not  "  x,"  but  "  ch;"  that  the  second 
stood  not  for  "p"  but  for  "r,"  while  by  the  third  not  "c,"  but 
"  s  "  was  meant. 

Chapter  26 :     The  Aim  of  Grammatical  Instruction. 

Contemplate,  O  teachers,  the  aim  of  grammatical  instruction  ! 
Bear  in  mind  that  this  instruction  is  to  enable  the  pupil  to  speak 
Latin  correctly  and  agreeably  on  all  occasions,  to  understand  it 
perfectly  and  to  be  able  to  apply  it  to  branches  of  knowledge  that 
promise  the  greater  rewards.  This  is  the  object,  this  the  aim,  this 
the  sum  and  substance  of  your  instruction.  But  when  it  is  pos- 
sible for  any  one  to  reach  this  goal  with  small  pains  and  slight  ex- 
ertion, is  he  not  foolish  to  wander  here  and  there  through  by-ways 
and  all  sorts  of  turns  and  twistings  at  the  expense  of  greater  effort  ? 
But  many  remain  obstinate  in  their  errors  and  close  their  ears 
even  to  the  plain  truth.  Although  a  straight  path  is  offered  to 
them  for  the  stud}'  of  grammar,  yet  the}'  pursue  a  crooked  way, 
which  brings  them  from  the  direct  route;  they  abandon  the  level 
road,  in  order  to  forge  ahead  over  a  way  full  of  inequalities ;  they 
give  up  the  short  road,  in  order  to  deceive  their  uninstructed 
youth  with  meaningless  and  windy  discourses,  together  with  great 
loss  of  time  and  interruption  of  mental  development ;  to  weaken 
and  unnerve  them.     They  remain  themselves,  together  with  their 


JACOB   WIMPHEUNG.  25 

pupils,  blind  and  lame,  for  their  ignorance  in  respect  to  the  ele- 
ments of  grammatical  instruction  permits  them  to  grope  about  in 
darkness.  He  will  never  attain  to  the  object  of  grammar,  who 
during  his  entire  youth  has  busied  himself  with  his  Alexander,' 
with  the  meaning  of  words,  with  figures  and  examples,  all  of 
which  is  superfluous,  and  at  the  end  can  neither  thoroughly  grasp 
nor  understand  the  smallest  preface  of  Jerome,  nor  any  homily  of 
the  fathers,  nor  anything  whatsoever  that  is  agreeably  written 
with  all  the  grammar  which  he  is  supposed  to  have  learned. 

Therefore  it  is  for  you,  who  are  placed  at  the  head  of  the  public 
schools,  to  conduct  your  pupils  by  the  nearest  possible  way  to  an 
understanding  and  a  knowledge  of  the  Latin  tongue.  Leave  un- 
touched the  old  established  explanations,  which  are  full  of  ab- 
surdities, and  above  all  such  as  are  calculated  to  cause  one  to 
forget  rather  than  to  learn,  in  which  there  is  nothing  either 
graceful  or  dignified,  and  which,  moreover,  are  useless  either  for 
the  acquisition  or  the  comprehension  of  Latin. 

The  Latin  language  I  regard  as  the  noblest  of  tongues;  it  can 
be  learned  and  understood  by  the  people  of  every  nation;  it  makes 
the  noble  born  still  nobler;  one  who  knows  it  not  is  thereby  ren- 
dered unworthy  of  the  Roman  imperial  crown;  in  it  have  count- 
less things  been  written,  which  can  scarcely  be  translated  into 
the  German  or  any  popular  speech;  he  who  despises  it  shows 
himself  unworthy  of  it;  he  who  refuses  to  become  a  Latinist,  re- 
mains forever  a  wild  beast  and  a  two-legged  donkey.  Our 
princes  and  their  trusted  courtiers  and  flatterers — not  to  call 
them  "worshippers,"  with  Augustine — as  despisers  of  the  Latin 
language  and  literature,  might  be  called  barbarians  by  foreign- 
ers; and  such  in  truth  they  are.  But  you,  admirable  youths,  love 
this  tongue;  no  other  language  is  nobler,  more  graceful  and  more 
expressive;  no  other  language  surpasses  it  in  abundance  and 
splendor  of  high  and  enlightened  thought. 

extracts  from  Tin-:  Adolescentia. 

Chapter  I.     The  Choice  of  Books. 
If  I  did  not  fear  to  be  accused  by  others  of  presumption,   I 
should    advise    teachers   to   observe,   in   the    introduction  of    the 

'The  Doclri?ialc  pucrorum  of  Alexander  de  Villa  Dei,  written  1209  (1199), 
a  famous  Latin  grammar,  -which  came  into  extensive  use  in  the  Middle  Ages. 
With  singular  perversity  the  text  was  tortured  into  hexameter  verse. 


26  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE    GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

grammar,  the  orderly  .succession  and  the  principles  which  I  have 
presented  in  my  "  fszdoneus."  I  permit  myself  to  hope  that 
immediately  after  the  instruction  in  the  alphabet  they  will  put 
into  your  hands  the  Donat,1  to  which  I  have  nothing  to  add,  and 
from  which  I  have  little  to  take  away.  Then  will  they  make  you 
acquainted  with  the  varieties  and  declensions  of  nouns  and  verbs, 
with  the  easier  forms  of  sentences  and  terminations  according  to 
Sulpicius,2  or  some  other  good  exercise  book  for  boys.  Then 
they  will  place  before  you  Basil  the  Great3  and  the  letter  of 
iEueas  Silvius  to  King  Ladislaus.*  After  these  have  been  com- 
pleted, this  book  of  mine  may,  I  think,  without  detriment,  be 
placed  in  your  hands,  by  means  of  which  you  may  become  ac- 
quainted with  Cicero,  Sallust,  Seneca,  Tranquillus  and  Valerius 
Maximus.  In  this  manner  you  will  be  able  more  easily  to  attain 
to  an  understanding  of  the  remaining  historical  works;  among 
others  to  an  understanding  of  Christian  history,  of  the  noble 
deeds  of  the  Germans,  especially  in  the  account  of  Otto  of  Frei- 
singen,  in  whom  your  noble  father,  who  possesses  a  carefully  re- 
vised and  perfect  edition  of  this  work,  takes  great  delight. 

When  you  will  read  something  of  a  more  sprightly  character,  to 
cheer  you  up  or  for  amusement,  turn  to  Lucian.  Whenever  any 
sad  mischance  has  shaken  you,  take  your  flight  to  Francesco 
Petrarca,  who  for  all  the  turns  of  fortune,  be  they  good  or  ill,  has 
ever  a  perfect  remedy  and  in  a  tasteful  form,  as  wTell  against  arro- 
gance and  presumption  as  against  discouragement  and  sadness. 
If,  however,  you  love  brevity,  take  up  the  equally  interesting  and 
instructive  book  of  Baptista  Mantuanus,  De  patientia.  If  you 
take  pleasure  in  learning  of  the  tasks  and  duties  of  an  upright 
prince  or  count,  or  if  for  the  relief  and  unburdening  of  your  con- 
science you  will  give  to  God  an  account  of  the  days  of  5'our  life, 
then  you  may  peruse  my  Agatharchia. 

1  Or  Do7iatus ;  the  ars  grammatica  of  Aelius  Donatus  (IV  century  A.  D.). 
This  book,  in  two  forms,  the  ars  minor  and  the  ars  major,  came  into  general 
use  as  an  elementary  Latin  grammar  after  the  middle  of  the  twelfth  century. 

* Johannes  Sulpicius  Verulanus  (Giovanni  Sulpicio  of  Veroli),  a  humanist 
of  the  XV.  century;  taught  at  Rome,  and  composed  works  upon  grammar. 

"St.  Basil  (329-379),  Archbishop  of  Csesarea  in  Cappadocia. 

*  Vide  Source-Book  of  the  Italian  Renaissance,  pp.  55-63. 


JACOB    WIMPHELING.  27 

Chapter  III.     Boys  of  ?wbie  birth  mote  than  others  should  be  instructed  in 

the  humanities. 

If  it  is  the  duty  of  all  parents  to  afford  a  good  education  to  their 
children,  it  is  of  especial  importance  that  those  boys  who  later  in 
life  are  to  occupy  prominent  positions,  and  whose  words  and  deeds 
may  not  lie  in  obscurity,  should  be  instructed  in  the  higher 
branches  of  learning,  so  that  they  may  be  worthy  of  their  fortune, 
their  dignity  and  their  prominence.  It  is  a  reasonable  condition, 
that  those  who  demand  for  themselves  the  highest  should  also 
produce  the  highest.  There  is  no  safer  nor  more  enduring  basis 
for  dominion  than  that  those  who  rule  should  be  considered  most 
worthy  of  their  lordship. 

Chapter  IV.  Learning  and  virtue  are  more  to  be  esteemed  than  all  else. 
Every  one  should  strive  for  learning  and  virtue,  which  alone 
confer  nobility.  These  are  to  be  striven  for  above  all  other  things 
to  which  the  human  mind  directs  itself.  For  money,  honor  and 
pleasure  are  changing  and  transitory.  The  possession  and  fruits 
of  virtue  on  the  contrary  are  unassailable  and  permanent,  and 
make  their  possessor  immortal  and  happy.  The  youth,  there- 
fore, especially  when  he  comes  of  distinguished  parents,  should  be 
reminded  with  especial  emphasis,  that  he  may  value  the  soul's 
advantage  and  not  the  gifts  of  fortune  and  physical  accomplish- 
ments. Each  day  he  should  exert  himself,  in  order  that  he  may 
not  become  an  awkward,  lazy,  stupid,  foppish,  wanton  fellow, 
as  in  our  day  most  of  the  noble-born  are,  but  that  he  shall  be  in- 
telligent and  educated;  that  he  may  be  well  instructed  from  his 
youth  and  not  ignorant  of  the  humanities;  that  he  shall  apply 
himself  to  the  reading  of  Holy  Writ;  that  he  may  be  well-bred, 
just,  gentle  and  pious;  that  he  may  be  no  friend  of  wastlings  and 
buffoons,  or  of  such  as  find  their  joy  in  biting  calumny,  or  of  such 
as  in  any  way  outrage  good  breeding;  in  order  that  he  may  be 
rather  a  friend  of  clever  and  cultured  men. 

Chapter  V.  A  boy's  disposition  has  to  be  determined  at  the  start. 
In  the  first  place,  each  one  has  to  give  proof  of  his  talents  and 
capacity.  Since  on  account  of  their  age  this  cannot  be  adequately 
determined  in  the  case  of  boys,  it  will  be  necessary  for  their 
parents  or  the  teachers  to  whom  the  youths  have  been  entrusted, 
to  observe  carefully  the  general  direction  of  their  mind,  and  talents, 
according  to  their  natural  dispositions.     Their  studies  should  then 


28  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE   GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

be  directed  into  this  same  direction,  and  with  these  studies  they 
should  occupy  themselves  exclusively. 

Chapter  VII.     The  sons  of  the  great  shall  not  apply  themselves  exclusively 

to  the  chase. 

What  special  signification  has  the  art  of  the  chase — if  indeed 
this  employment  deserves  to  be  called  an  art — for  a  king  or  for  a 
noble  prince,  that  for  it  he  despises  and  neglects  all  other  skilled 
labors  and  exercises  of  the  body  ?  Is  it  not  true  that  an  ordinary 
man  of  base  extraction,  devoid  of  all  distinction,  of  all  cleverness 
and  aptitude,  may  be  quite  the  equal  of  a  prince  in  the  exercise 
of  the  chase?  The  worst  gallows-bird,  empty  of  all  ability,  of  all 
cleverness,  of  all  fear  of  the  Lord,  is  qualified  to  apply  himself  to 
this  "delight."  He  too  may  carry  the  horn  which  hangs  about 
his  neck;  he  too  may  jump  about  like  mad,  and  race  his  horse 
here  and  there  through  field  and  forest,  and  fill  the  air  with  cries; 
he  too  in  peril  of  life  and  health  may  follow  the  game  and  shoot 
it  with  bow  or  gun  or  run  it  down  with  hunting-spear. 

For  a  prince,  however,  that  would  be  a  more  laudable  art,  in 
which  a  man  of  common  birth  and  lew  intelligence  could  not 
equal  him.  Therefore  he  shall  apply  himself  to  use  with  ease  the 
noblest  of  tongues  in  reading  and  in  speaking  and  particularly  in 
oral  intercourse  with  foreigners;  he  shall  consider  it  furthermore 
his  duty  to  learn  the  customs  of  the  ancients  and  the  manners  of 
foreign  lands  ;  he  shall  make  himself  acquainted  with  historical 
statements  and  relations,  such  as  serve  for  agreeable  and  witty 
entertainment  or  for  elevating  instruction;  then  too,  the  holy  coun 
cils,  which  attend  to  the  interests  of  the  individual  and  of  the 
state,  as  well  as  to  the  public  and  civic  welfare,  should  not  be  un- 
familiar to  him;  in  the  range  of  his  knowledge  he  should  include 
the  arts  of  peace  and  war,  as  well  as  the  proper  training  of  chil- 
dren, and  law  and  equity,  which  may  serve  for  the  defence  of  just- 
ice and  the  maintenance  of  right.  Then  will  he  rise  above  his 
subjects;  then  will  he  be  distinguished  from  them  in  his  actions; 
then  will  he  draw  upon  himself  beyond  a  doubt  the  love  and  ven- 
eration of  his  people. 

Chapter  VIII.      The  indications  of  good  natural  gifts. 

One  indication  of  ability  and  of  a  spirit  worth)-  of  a  free  man  is 
shown    in    the   striving   after  praise   and   the  desire  for  honor. 


JACOB    WIMPHEUNG.  29 

Hence  arises  the  contest  for  honor  and  distinction.  It  is  another 
token,  when  great  things  are  dared  for  praise  and  honor.  A 
third  token  betrays  itself  in  the  readiness  for  good  deeds,  in  the 
disinclination  for  idleness  and  in  the  desire  always  to  accomplish 
something  of  importance.  A  fourth  is  shown  in  a  dread  of  threats 
and  blows,  and  a  still  greater  dread  of  dishonor  and  shame. 
Hence  arises  that  feeling  of  modesty  and  awe,  which  is  of  the 
highest  value  at  this  time  of  life.  It  is  also  a  good  indication 
when  boys  blush  on  being  reproved,  and  when  they  mend  their 
ways  after  having  been  chastised.  A  fifth  sign  is  when  they  love 
their  teachers  and  bear  neither  dislike  nor  hatred  against  them  or 
their  discipline.  A  sixth  sign  is  this:  that  children  listen  will- 
ingly to  their  parents  and  are  not  deaf  to  their  well-meant  admo- 
nitions; for  youth  is  inclined  to  sin,  and  when  it  is  not  held  in 
bounds  by  the  example  and  counsel  of  older  people,  it  often  seeks 
in  haste  the  road  to  destruction. 

Chapter  XL  VI.     The  fifteenth  rule  forbids  carousing. 

The  youth  shall  avoid  most  carefully  immoderate  use  of  wine 
and  intoxication.  Immoderate  use  of  wine  injures  the  health, 
and  seriously  limits  the  use  of  reason;  it  arouses  strife  and  war 
and  excites  evil  desires.  For  this  reason  the  Lacedaemonians 
permitted  drunken  slaves  to  come  before  them  at  their  meals,  not 
that  they  might  enjoy  their  disgusting  conversation  or  their  filthy 
actions — for  it  is  only  a  worthless  man  who  takes  pleasure  in  the 
faults  or  in  the  vices  of  others — but  that  the}'  might  place  before 
their  young  sons  a  living  example  of  the  shamefulness  of  intoxi- 
cation. Was  there  ever  an  evil  greater  than  this  infamy  ?  If  then 
the  disfigurement  of  the  body  is  so  disgusting,  how  great  is  to  be 
regarded  the  deformity  and  repulsiveness  of  the  soul  disfigured 
with  this  vice?  Whoever  possesses  the  sense  of  shame  that 
deters  him  from  that  so-called  pleasure  of  eating  and  drinking, 
which  man  has  in  common  with  swine  and  donkeys,  be  may  con- 
sider himself  fortunate.  Socrates  indeed  said  that  many  men 
lived  in  order  to  eat  and  drink;  he,  however,  ate  and  drank  in 
order  to  live. 

A  youth,  therefore,  who  desires  to  be  accounted  wise,  must 
never  smell  of  wine;  he  flees  drunkenness  as  he  would  poison;  he 
follows  not  the  seductions  of  the  palate,  for  a  full  stomach  does 
not   sharpen   the   senses.     A  pleasure-seeking   and   immoderate 


30  SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

youth  bequeaths  to  age  an  exhausted  body.  The  youth  must 
know  that  human  nature  is  content  with  little,  so  far  as  needs  are 
concerned;  in  respect  to  pleasure,  however,  nothing  is  able  to 
satisfy  it.  He  should  know,  finally,  that  food,  taken  in  modera- 
tion, is  conducive  to  health;  but  that  the  contrary  is  the  case 
when  taken  in  excess.  Thus  saith  John  Chrysostom:  "Nothing 
is  so  pleasing  as  well-prepared  and  well-cooked  food;  nothing 
more  conducive  to  health;  nothing  so  effectually  sharpens  the 
wits;  nothing  drives  away  an  indisposition  so  quickly  as  a  mod- 
erate refreshment.  An  excess,  however,  produces  sickness  and 
disorders,  and  calls  forth  discord.  The  effects  of  hunger  are 
equally  produced,  and  even  to  a  greater  degree  and  with  more 
disastrous  consequences  by  immoderate  indulgence;  for  hunger 
carries  a  man  off  in  a  few  days,  and  delivers  him  from  the  pains 
of  this  life.  Immoderation  in  food  and  drink  destroys  the  human 
body  and  causes  it  to  wither  and  saps  its  strength  through  illness, 
and  then  finally  takes  it  hence  in  painful  death."  Jerome  held 
this  view,  and  appealed  to  the  physician  Hippocrates  and  his  ex- 
positor, Galen. 

Let  the  German  youth  accustom  himself,  therefore,  to  be  mod- 
erate and  careful  with  his  food  and  drink,  so  that  the  opinion  of 
foreigners  may  not  be  justly  applied  to  him,  when  they  say,  with 
injustice,  and  without  ever  giving  thought  to  their  own  short- 
comings, that  all  Germans  are  given  to  intoxication  and  drunken- 
ness. Young  men  may  believe  me  when  I  say  that  I  have  known 
many  a  young  man  who  has  wasted  his  patrimony  in  debauchery 
and  riotous  living,  and  finally  has  seen  himself  compelled  in  mis- 
ery either  to  beg  his  bread  in  shame  and  degradation  or  to  end 
his  life  in  the  poorhouse. 

Chapter  XL  VII.  The  sixteenth  rule  forbids  curling  the  hair. 
The  young  man  shall  turn  his  thoughts  to  neatness,  but  not  to 
such  a  degree  that  it  may  be  too  evident  or  seem  labored;  he  shall 
avoid  negligence,  which  betrays  a  rustic  mind  and  lack  of  culture. 
In  the  same  way  he  shall  look  to  his  attire,  and  in  this  matter,  as 
in  most  others,  the  golden  mean  is  to  be  preferred.  If  in  Holy 
Writ  long  hair  is  forbidden  to  man  and  youth,  as  being  conducive 
to  dishonor,  how  much  heavier  an  offence  is  it  then,  not  only  to 
roll  up  and  curl  the  hair,  which  naturally  grows  smooth  and 
straight  and  is  adorned  with  pleasing  colors,  but  also  to  moisten 


JACOB    WIMPHELING.  3 1 

and  dye  it  with  artificial  color.  A  well-mannered  and  modest 
youth  will  hold  himself  aloof  frcm  such  deceit  and  feminine  prac- 
tices; for  nothing  was  so  certain  a  sign  of  the  worst  of  all  vices  to 
the  ancients  as  this  wricked  and  shameiul  custom  of  curling  the 
hair.  Thus  Plautus  saj's  of  a  certain  one:  ' '  Thou  voluptuary  with 
the  curly  hair!"  Curling  the  hair  makes  a  woman  of  a  man  ;  it 
softens  the  youth;  it  produces  an  abundance  of  vermin;  it  strives 
in  vain  for  that  which  nature  has  forbidden  ;  it  is  a  sign  of  arro- 
gance and  bluster;  it  betrays  epicureanism  and  sensuality;  it  of- 
fends God  the  Lord  and  frightens  away  the  guardian  angel  ;  it 
makes  the  head  heavy  and  affects  the  brain ;  it  weakens  the  mem- 
ory and  deforms  the  countenance;  it  gives  eld  age  a  horrid,  mangy 
look;  it  is  evidence  of  great  simpleness.  Is  there  anything  more 
absurd  than  to  hold  the  hair  in  estimation  above  the  head ;  than 
to  care  more  for  the  color  of  the  hair  than  for  sprightliness  of 
mind,  as  the  brave  and  honest  poet  Diether  has  said  with  playful 
grace  to  your  distinguished  father.  Finally,  crimping  the  hair 
shuts  one  out  from  the  kingdom  of  Heaven;  for  how  will  God,  the 
best  and  highest  One  of  all,  deem  those  worthy  of  the  kingdom  of 
the  blest  who,  dissatisfied  with  the  form,  with  the  countenance, 
with  the  hair  which  he  has  given  them,  are  not  ashamed  to  wear 
false  hair,  to  slight  and  despise  that  divine  gift,  and  to  seek 
strange  gifts.  On  the  last  day  the  Judge  will  be  able  to  confront 
those  who  crimp  and  curl  their  hair  with  these  words  :  "I  have 
not  created  this  man;  I  have  not  given  him  this  countenance;  this 
is  not  the  hair  which  I  gave  him  at  birth."  Augustine  bears  us 
witness  with  these  words:  "  God  is  against  the  arrogant  and  those 
that  curl  their  hair." 

Extracts  from  THE  Agatharchia . 
Chapter  XIV.  The  Support  and  Direction  of  High  Schools. 
It  should  be  the  care  and  effort  of  a  prince,  that  scientific 
studies  should  flourish  in  his  principality  and  that  main  wise 
and  energetic  men  should  distinguish  themselves  therein.  In 
this  matter  you  will  do  well  to  imitate  your  father.  It  was  his 
earnest  desire,  that  the  high  school  at  Heidelberg  should  advance 
in  all  excellent  sciences,  and  particularly  in  the  humanistic 
studies,  which  before  all  are  indispensable  to  young  men,  and 
of  value  in  the  still  more  important  exercise  of  the  sacred  law; 
for  it  is  not  sufficient  that  this  or  the  other  branch  of  learning 


32  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE    GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

should  enjoy  especial  prosperity  and  consideration  at  the  high 
school.  It  is  necessary  that  suitable  arrangements  should  be 
made  for  each  branch  of  learning,  through  the  whole  range  of 
the  higher  arts  and  sciences.  For  in  this  wise  such  institutions 
of  learning  show  themselves  worthy  of  the  name  of  ' '  University. ' ' ' 
Thus  your  father  acted  well  and  advisedly,  when  he  founded  a 
college  for  jurisprudence.  For  it  is  better  that  teachers  and 
pupils  should  dwell  together,  than  that  the  latter  should  be 
separated  and  scattered  hither  and  thither  in  nooks  and  corners 
without  supervision. 

Chapter  XV.     The  Desirability  of  having  suitable  Pastors  and  Teachers. 

A  prince  shall  nominate  or  appoint  for  his  pastors  and  for  the 
direction  of  his  scholars,  able,  learned  and  cultured  men,  who  are 
qualified  to  give  instruction.  And  although  in  other  cases 
princes  are  accustomed  to  state  their  desires  rather  violently — as 
some  one  has  said  :  "  When  princes  ask,  it  is  a  specially  emphatic 
form  of  command,"  or  "The  mighty  put  their  requests  with  a 
drawn  sword  " — yet  in  these  two  instances,  that  is  to  say,  in  the 
matter  of  the  cure  of  souls  and  the  education  of  children,  the 
prince  shall  not  advance  any  one  he  chooses  to  an  academic  stand- 
ard ;  he  shall  not  personally  advance  the  claims  of  his  favorite 
without  due  consideration  ;  he  shall  not  confide  to  an  inexperi- 
enced man  a  responsible  position  as  pastor,  simply  because  his 
father  understood  his  business  or  his  service  as  cook,  huntsman, 
fowler  or  zither-player,  to  the  injury  of  the  man's  own  soul  and 
to  the  detriment  of  the  prince  himself.  A  prince  will  have  to 
give  an  account  of  all  these  things.  It  would  be  more  to  the  pur- 
pose to  bestow  offices  of  this  sort  upon  men  of  distinction,  mature 
and  blameless  men,  who  have  acquired  a  fund  of  human  experi- 
ence, who  are  able  to  awaken  confidence,  who  are  thoughtful  of 
the  welfare  of  their  native  land,  who  love  God  and  the  salvation 
of  souls  more  than  all  other  things,  who  allow  themselves  to  be 
directed  by  nothing,  neither  by  the  arrangements  of  this  or  that 
one,  nor  by  the  demands  of  the  faculty  or  the  bursary,  but  simply 
and  exclusively  look  to  the  morality,  the  intellectual  advance- 
ment, the  eloquence  and  the  progress  of  those  who  are  entrusted 
to  their  care.     It  is  also  not  to  be  permitted  that  at  a  high  school 

1  Academia  Universitatum. 


JACOB    WIMPHEUNG.  33 

one  faculty  should  subordinate,  encroach  upon  or  oppress  another. 
The  prosperity  of  the  high  school  and  due  respect  for  the  founder 
demand  rather,  that  the  faculty  which  was  first  established 
should  not  give  way;  reason  suggests  that  equilibrium  should  be 
preserved;  equal  labor  and  equal  remuneration,  and  in  a  similar 
way,  equal  consideration  on  the  part  of  those  whose  privilege  it 
is  to  bestow  rewards  and  favors.  Especially  are  those  self- 
seeking  souls  to  be  kept  at  a  distance  who  do  not  hesitate,  for 
their  own  advantage  and  with  unseemly  pertinacity  in  their  own 
behalf,  to  undermine  the  whole  academic  structure,  to  violate 
every  approved  regulation,  to  destroy  the  sacred  harmony  and 
break  down  a  just  distribution  of  stipends. 

Chapter  XVII.      The  Training  of  Princely  Children. 

A  prince  should  see  to  it,  that  his  children  are  well  educated 
and  well  trained,  and  that  from  their  earliest  years  they  are 
directed  toward  humanistic  studies.  They  should  be  able  also 
to  use  the  Latin  language  in  a  satisfactory  manner.  This  will 
redound  to  their  honor  in  the  assemblies  of  princes,  in  their 
intercourse  with  ecclesiastical  dignitaries,  in  the  reception  of 
candinals  or  in  their  intercourse  with  foreigners.  Julius  and 
Augustus,  Marcus  Cato,  King  Robert  of  Sicily,  Constantine, 
Charles  the  Great  and  other  princes  and  their  sons  have  neither 
impaired  the  honor  of  their  names  in  any  way  through  such 
study,  nor  have  they  discovered  therein  any  diminution  of  their 
martial  glory.  What  the  characteristics  of  a  good  teacher  are, 
I  have  already  indicated  in  my  Isidoneus.  As  to  how  they 
should  bring  up  boys,  they  may  peruse  the  letter  of  Aeneas 
Silvius  to  Ladislas.1  In  the  training  of  older  pupils  they  should 
govern  themselves  by  Holy  Writ  and  the  writings  of  the  heathen. 
They  may  find  inspiration  also  in  the  treatise  which  John  Gerson 
addressed  to  the  confessor  of  Charles  VII.  King  of  France;  above 
all  they  should  not  neglect  the  Summa  of  John  Gallensis.3 

Chapter  XXII.     Precautions  against  the  Artificial  Raising  of  Prices. 

A  prince  should  take  care  that  well-filled  granaries  are  at  hand 
for  the  benefit  of  his  people,  so  that  an  occasional  famine  may  be 

1  Cf.  Source-Book  of  the  Italian  Renaissance,  p.  55,  et  scq. 

'English  Franciscan  monk.  Taught  at  University  of  Paris  in  1279.  His 
Summa  Collationum  was  a  book  of  aphorisms. 

3 


34  SOURCK-BOOK   OF  THE    GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

mitigated  by  means  of  the  surplus  of  foregoing  years.  He  shall 
also  take  precautions,  so  that  when,  to  punish  us  for  our  sins, 
God  in  his  wisdom  limits  the  increase  of  fruits  or  sends  destruct- 
ive storms  upon  us,  prices  shall  not  rise  out  of  reach  through  the 
insatiable  avarice  of  priests  or  citizens.  He  shall  see  that  just 
prices  are  made,  so  that  the  scarcity  may  be  more  endurable  for 
the  poor;  for  there  are  such  as  collect  and  heap  together  the  har- 
vests of  several  years,  and  hold  them  back  purposely,  in  order 
that  they  may  sell  these  products  at  advanced  prices.  People  of 
this  kind  sometimes  bring  about  an  advance  in  prices  merely  by 
their  avarice.  If  your  father  Philip  had  not  broken  this  up  and 
forbidden,  in  years  past,  that  the  price  of  a  bushel  of  wheat  should 
exceed  16  solidi,1  the  price  of  the  same  would  have  risen  to  a  pound 
denarii  or  nearly  to  two  pounds  and  this  merely  through  the  wan- 
toness  of  avaricious  people,  who  cared  not  whether  poor  people 
suffered  hunger  or  even  died  of  hunger,  if  they  themselves  could 
get  rich.     I  speak  from  experience. 

Chapter  XXIII.     To  Prevent  the  Exportation  of  Gold  and  Silver. 

A  prince  shall  take  precautions,  in  so  far  as  it  is  possible  with- 
out offense  toward  God,  that  neither  gold  nor  silver  shall  be  taken 
out  of  his  territory  into  foreign  lands,  unless  a  complete  equivalent 
therefor  is  returned.  I  do  not  know  why  it  is  that  other  people 
have  contracted  the  habit  of  draining  the  German  nation  dry, 
while  no  gain  comes  to  us  from  foreign  lands.  The  Roman  an- 
nates, the  spices  and  fabrics  of  Venice,  the  Italian  rectorates,  the 
French  jugglers  and  players,  the  regular  orders,  their  hospitals 
and  settlements  carry  enormous  sums  out  of  our  lands.  Our  peo- 
ple, however,  have  only  one  order  founded  for  the  Germans,  and 
this  has  obtained  in  all  France  not  one  cloister,  nor  a  single  set- 
tlement, nor  any  kind  of  income,  whatsoever.  The  French,  on 
the  contrary,  have  in  our  midst  the  Antonines,2  the  Valentinians, 
the  Benedictines  and  man)'  others;  not  to  speak  of  the  Cistercians 
and  Praemoustratensians.  So  great  is  either  the  simplicity  or  the 
generosity  of  the  Germans. 

1  According  to  the  Carolingian  coinage  regulations  the  pound  silver  was 
divided  into  20  solidi  or  into  240  denarii. 

Established  1095.  Under  Boniface  VIII,  changed  to  a  congregation  of 
Augustinians;  1774  united  with  the  order  of  Malta;  dissolved  in  the  revolu- 
tionary period. 


JOHANN    RKUCHLIN.  35 

J  OH  ANN  REUCHLIN. 

Johann  Reuchlin  (1455-1522)  is,  next  to  Desiilerius  Krasmus,  the  most 
important  character  in  the  German  Renaissance.  A  student  at  many  uni- 
versities in  Germany,  France  and  Italy,  Reuchlin  hecame  licentiate  in  law 
at  Poitiers  (1481),  and  returning  to  Wiirtemberg,  was  appointed  to  a  judicial 
position  under  the  government  of  that  state.  His  professional  duties  left 
much  time  for  study,  and  he  hecame  so  proficient  iu  the  languages  of  an- 
tiquity, that  he  was  called  the  "  three-tongued  wonder  of  Germany."  The 
Hebrew  text-books  which  he  produced  first  gave  an  opportunity  in  Germany 
for  the  study  of  that  language  and  literature. 

Various  diplomatic  missions  led  Reuchlin  again  to  Italy,  where  he  came 
in  contact  with  Pico  della  Mirandola,  whose  influence  gave  a  mystical  turn 
to  Reuchlin's  philosophical  writings  a  tendency  which  had  little  effect  upon 
his  contemporaries  or  upon  posterity.  As  a  teacher,  however,  as  a  repre- 
sentative of  the  widest  culture  of  his  time,  and  as  a  source  of  inspiration 
toward  intellectual  effort,  Reuchlin  exercised  great  influence  upon  the 
scholars  of  his  time.  As  a  humanist,  he  felt  little  sympathy  with  Luther's 
schismatic  attitude,  but  unwittingly  he  furnished  the  Protestant  move- 
ment with  one  of  its  ablest  leaders,  in  the  person  of  his  nephew,  Melauch- 
thon,  for  whom  he  secured  the  chair  of  Greek  at  the  university  of  Wit- 
tenberg. 

Reuchlin's  eventual  fame  is  largely  due  to  the  fact  that  he  became,  much 
against  his  will,  the  central  point  about  which  raged  a  bitter  literary  con- 
troversy, which  occupied  the  attention  of  the  world  of  letters  in  the  decade 
just  preceding  Luther's  appearance.1 

LETTER  TO  JOHANN  AMMERBACH.' 

To  the  prudent,  honorable  and  wise  gentleman,  nix  dear  sir  and  good friend ', 
Master  Johann  Ammerbach,  citizen  and  publisher  at  Basel. 

My  friendly  and  willing  service  is  at  all  times  at  your  disposal, 
dear  master  Hans,  sir  and  frie;:d.  I  have  received  your  letter, 
dated  Basel,  August  2d,  and  have  also  learned  of  the  complaints 
you  have  made  concerning  the  Jerome  and  my  books' as  well. 
I  should  be  very  glad  if  everything  could  happen  in  accordance 
with  your  wish  and  approbation,  and  where  it  does  not  so  come- 
to  pass,  I  am  truly  sorry;  hut  nevertheless  the  fault  in  both 
instances  is  not  mine.  I  have  done  everything  that  my  knowl- 
edge, ability  and  duty  indicated.  I  send  you  the  tertia  pars 
epistolariun  :  I  have  attended  to  it  carefully,  so  far  as  the  Greek 

1  See  below,  "  Letters  of  Obscure  Men." 

'Johann  Reuchlin's  Briefwechsel,  von  L.  Geiger.     Litt.  Vereiu,  Stuttgart, 
1875. 
*The  Rudintenta  hebraica. 


36  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

and  Hebrew  are  concerned.  The  Latin  I  have  not  disturbed,  as 
indeed  throughout  the  whole  of  Jerome.  This  you  have  not 
asked  me  to  do,  and  you  will  find  enough  people  who  can  do 
that.     I  send  you  likewise  the  commentaries  on  the  Psalms. 

So  far,  however,  as  the  Jeremiah  is  concerned,  I  have  informed 
you  more  than  once  that  to  the  best  of  my  knowledge  and  belief, 
I  can  find  no  old  copy  of  Jeremiah  in  any  cloister.  I  have  done 
much  riding  here  and  there  for  this  purpose,  and  I  should  not 
undertake  to  correct  it  for  you  without  a  text.  There  is,  how- 
ever, no  real  necessity  for  this,  since  master  Bruno '  and  yourself 
are  able  to  supply  the  lack,  so  far  as  the  Hebrew  is  concerned, 
and  master  Johann  Cuno,  the  Dominican,  can  readily  find  a 
Greek  text  amongst  the  books  of  his  cloister,  wherefore  there  is 
no  need  of  me.  Likewise  regarding  the  interpretaliones  hebrai- 
corum  fiomiftzim,  no  one  would  undertake  this,  because  it  is  in- 
correct; in  fact,  it  was  not  composed  by  St.  Jerome,  but  the 
Greek  church  formerly  possessed  it,  and  so  he  translated  it  from 
the  Greek;  and  it  contains  much  that  is  erroneous,  because  in  his 
exposition  he  has  not  followed  his  own  judgment,  but  the  common 
error,  as  he  himself  permits  it  to  be  seen  in  the  Epistolcz  ad  Fabi- 
olam  de  4.2  mansionibus,  mansione  nona.  It  would  be  possible  to 
point  out  appropriately  in  an  introduction  that  it  is  not  his  own. 

In  the  same  way,  so  far  as  the  two  introductions  are  concerned, 
the  one  in  Uterus  hebraeas,  the  other  in  literas  graecas,  since  you 
write  that  there  will  be  need  of  them  for  those  who  wish  to  buy 
and  read  St.  Jerome,  I  must  inform  you  that  I  have  not  been  neg- 
ligent of  your  interests  in  the  matter,  but  have  had  master  Thomas 
print  the  introductorium1  of  Aldus  in  Greek  and  Hebrew,  and  he 
has  done  it  well.  I  have  also  incorporated  with  it  the  seven  peni- 
tential psalms  with  my  literal  exposition  and  furthermore  a  S)rn- 
opsis  of  the  Rudirjienta,  and  had  master  Thomas  print  the  same,  in 
order  that  your  Jerome  and  your  Rndime?ita  which  you  purchased 
of  me,  should  be  of  more  value  and  succeed  better;  for  of  what 
use  was  it  to  make  a  vocabulary  and  grammar,  when  no  one  could 
obtain  a  Jewish  book,  whereby  he  might  have  use  for  a  vocabulary. 

Master  Hans  Froben  has  already  written  me  in  your  behalf,  that 
you  have  complained  loudly  because  many  of  the  copies  of  the 


1  Son  of  Atnmerbach. 

1  Introductorium  perbreve  ad  gramm.  hebr. 


JOHANN   REUCHLIN.  37 

Rudimenta  were  wanting  or  had  been  injured,  and  that  on  this 
account  you  have  held  back  the  money  loaned  by  me;  it  was  my 
intention  to  arrange  the  matter  with  him  at  the  last  fair,  but  at 
that  time  he  did  not  come  to  Frankfort.  However,  my  dear  mas- 
ter Hans,  dear  sir  and  friend,  if  any  shortage  has  occurred  in  the 
case  of  these  books,  it  is  not  my  fault.  For  when  you  made  the 
bargain  with  me,  according  to  the  terms  of  our  written  contract, 
made  at  Basel  and  signed  with  your  own  hand,  you  directed  me, 
after  having  divided  with  master  Thomas,  to  place  600  copies  in 
my  sister's  house  at  Pforzheim,  so  that  you  might  find  them  there. 
I  did  that,  as  certain  reputable  persons  can  testify  who  were  there 
at  the  time,  and  I  had  a  carpenter  build  some  shelving  out  of  tim- 
ber and  boards  in  one  of  my  sister's  rooms,  according  to  the  ad- 
vice of  those  who  understood  such  things.  Then  master  Thomas 
counted  me  out  600  books  and  placed  them  there  at  your  disposi- 
tion. He  also  (as  his  people  say)  sorted  them  out  one  by  one, 
some  weeks  previously,  in  order  to  get  the  best  copies.  You 
ought  at  that  time  to  have  had  them  taken  away  by  one  of  your 
own  men,  who  would  have  understood  better  about  arranging  and 
handling  them  than  my  sister,  who  nevertheless  out  of  friendly 
disposition  and  good  will  diligently  supervised  the  task.  They 
lay  there,  however,  a  long  time  perictdo  emptoris,  until  I  received 
word  from  you  through  master  Hans,  that  you  desired  I  should 
have  the  goodness  to  arrange  with  Thomas  of  Pfortzheim  to  pack 
the  books  lying  in  my  sister's  house  and  send  them  to  Strasburg 
as  quickly  as  possible,  to  a  publisher  named  Johannes  Kuobloeh, 
and  that  I  should  advance  the  charges  for  carriage  from  Pfortz- 
heim to  Strasburg;  that  he  would  repay  me,  and  would  also  make- 
good  whatever  the  casks  and  packing  cost. 

I  gave  evidence  of  my  friendly  disposition  toward  you,  and 
wrote  my  sister,  and  also  arranged  with  master  Thomas,  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  above  request  addressed  to  me,  and  I  also  paid 
what  was  to  be  paid,  as  I  have  already  written  you.  But  a  k  w 
books,  I  do  not  know  how  many,  which  would  not  go  into  the 
casks,  are  still  lying  in  my  sister's  house.  Wherefore  I  have  now- 
requested  my  sister  by  letter  to  have  these  books  carried  to  Frank- 
fort, where  they  may  reach  your  people;  and  in  this  matter  I  have- 
acted  in  every  respect  as  if  it  had  been  my  own  affair.  I  have 
also  requested  master  Thomas  to  act  in  your  interest,  and  he 
that  he  will  do  with  diligence  what   you  desire,  and   will   again 


38  SOURCE-BOOK    OF  THE    GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

look  through  his  books,  and  if  he  finds  any  superfluous  leaves 
will  send  them  to  you;  and  this  you  are  also  to  do  for  him.  And 
this  may  be  done  easily,  for  each  leaf  has  its  number,  and  may  be 
noted  readily;  and  so  I  should  ver3r  likely  be  informed  by  your 
people  that  there  was  no  further  shortage  or  defect,  but  for  the 
fact  that  when  they  packed  the  books  some  iron  nails  were  driven 
into  the  casks  to  hold  the  hoops  fast,  and  these  have  gone  through 
into  the  casks.  The  damage  may  have  happened  quite  as  well  at 
Strasburg  as  at  Pfortzheim,  while  they  were  taking  the  books  out, 
when  they  may  have  caught  the  leaves  on  the  nails  and  have 
torn  them.  It  is  not  my  fault,  however;  that  must  be  evident  to 
you.  Therefore  I  maintain  my  point  and  will  not  recede  from  it, 
for  there  is  nothing  that  might  be  reckoned  my  fault;  and  even  if 
you  had  discovered  a  shortage  of  eighteen  books,  and  that  thirty 
books  were  defective  or  damaged,  as  master  Hans  writes,  still  it 
would  not  even  then  justify  a  deduction  of  eighteen  florins. 

You  also  promised  me  through  Conrad  L,eontorius,  whom  you 
commissioned  to  bring  your  book  to  me,  and  who  wrote  me  with 
his  own  hand,  that  if  I  would  correct  the  corresponding  passages 
in  the  Greek  and  Latin  texts  of  St.  Jerome,  you  would  give  me 
twenty  florins.  I  have  corrected  a  third  more  than  the  agreement 
called  for,  and  have  also  placed  Jeremiah  last,  for  in  your  book 
the  New  Testament  stands  after  the  epistles  of  Jerome. 

Again,  you  instructed  me  to  come  to  Basel,  and  the  journey 
cost  me  for  myself  and  my  servant  and  horse  more  than  ten  florins 
in  money.  In  addition  to  this  I  loaned  you  there  five  florins  and 
some  shillings;  then  you  promised  at  Basel  to  give  me  a  Spanish 
bed-cover  and  several  books,  such  as  the  works  of  Augustine, 
Ambrose,  etc.  I  make  no  mention  of  the  carpenter's  food  and 
drink  and  the  porters  who  helped  to  carry  the  books  to  and  fro 
and  pack  them,  and  the  additional  sum  which  I  have  spent  in  rid- 
ing to  the  cloisters,  Bebenhausen,  Miihlbronn,  Hirshau,  Dencken- 
dorff  and  Lorch,  at  your  request.  All  that  would  have  been  suffi- 
cient security,  without  the  loan  of  money.  Indeed  I  would  not 
take  thirty  florins  and  do  for  any  one  else  the  work  I  did  for  you 
during  the  fourteen  days  I  was  at  your  place,  as  a  certain  one  who 
was  at  your  house,  master  Adam  by  name,  is  said  to  have  re- 
marked jocosely  at  Frankfort,  in  speaking  of  the  matter:  "  What 
I  have  done  is  nothing,  but  there  is  one  with  you  now,  the  latchets 
of  whose  shoes  I  am  not  worthy  to  unloose."     But  I  am   willing 


SEBASTIAN    BRANT.  39 

to  let  that  pass.     I  have  done  the  best  I  could;  let  others  do  their 
part. 

Although  you  write  that  you  are  willing  to  lose  a  third  upon 
the  books  you  have  bought,  there  are  many  people  who  do  not 
credit  it.  Master  Thomas  is  dissatisfied  to  this  day,  because  I 
gave  you  my  books,  when  he  had  sold  all  of  his;  for  I  have  suf- 
fered a  considerable  loss  in  the  transaction  and  merely  because  I 
would  not  wait  for  him;  therefore  you  must  simply  wait  until  the 
book  makes  money.  And  that  this  will  come  to  pass  I  have  no 
doubt,  for  if  I  live  the  Hebrew  tongue  must  go  ahead,  with  God's 
help;  and  if  I  die,  I  have  at  least  made  a  beginning  that  will  not 
easily  be  set  aside.  I  am  indeed  willing  to  suffer  loss  for  the  com- 
mon good,  dear  master  Hans,  sir  and  good  friend.  I  am  not  will- 
ing to  forfeit  your  friendship  for  the  sake  of  money.  If  I  have  de- 
served any  thanks  at  your  hands,  let  it  go  to  my  account;  if  I  have 
deserved  no  thanks  from  you,  then  may  God  reward  me,  and  may 
he  ever  protect  you  and  your  wife  and  your  children  from  misfor- 
tune. Given  the  Tuesday  after  the  festival  of  St.  Augustine,  in 
the  year  15 12.1 

Doctor  Johann  Rkuchun. 


SEBASTIAN  BRANT. 

Sebastian  Brant  (1458-1521)  was  born  at  Strasburg,  studied  at  the  univer- 
sity of  Basel,  became  doctor  of  civil  and  canon  Jpw,  and  taught  at  Basel 
until  1501,  when  he  returned  to  his  native  town.  There  he  held  several 
municipal  offices  and  in  1521  was  given  charge  of  an  embassy  to  Ghent  by 
the  emperor,  Charles  V. 

Brant's  Narrenschiff,  or  Ship  of  Fools  (Basel,  1494)  was  one  of  the  most 
popular  books  of  the  sixteenth  century.  The  work  passed  through  numer- 
ous editions  and  was  translated  into  many  modern  languages.  Alexander 
Barclay's  Ship  of  Fooles  (1509)  is  based  upon  Brant's  work,  but  is  so  ex- 
panded and  diluted  that  the  vigor  of  the  original  is  lost.  The  Narrenschiff 
has  no  purpose,  other  than  that  of  a  satirical  presentation  of  the  weaknesses 
and  foibles  of  society.  Along  with  other  classes  of  society  it  handles  some- 
what  roughly  the  shortcomings  of  the  clergy,  and  in  this  wise  furnished 
material  for  the  opponents  of  the  church.  Brant,  however,  was  thoroughly 
orthodox,  and  wrote  without  polemical  motive  and  without  hostility  to  the 
religious  institutions  of  his  times. 

'Aug.  31,  1512,  at  Stuttgart. 


40  SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

from  The  Narrenschiff} 
The  foremost  rank  they've  given  me , 
Since  I  have  many  useless  books, 
Which  I  neither  read  nor  understand, 

(i)  Of  Useless  Books. 
That  I  sit  in  this  ship  foremost 
A  special  meaning  has  in  truth, 
And  is  not  done  without  a  cause. 
For  I  rely  upon  my  books, 
Of  which  I  have  a  great  supply, 
But  of  their  contents  know  no  word, 
And  hold  them  yet  in  such  respect, 
That  I  will  keep  them  from  the  flies. 
When  people  speak  of  knowledge,  I  say 
I  have  a  lot  of  it  at  home; 
And  am  content  with  this  alone, 
To  see  a  lot  of  books  about. 
King  Ptolemy,  he  so  contrived, 
That  he  had  all  books  in  the  world, 
And  held  them  for  a  treasure  great. 
Still  he  had  not  the  law  of  truth, 
Nor  knew  well  how  to  use  his  books. 
So  I  have  many  books  as  well, 
And  very  few  of  them  peruse. 
Why  should  I  break  my  head  on  them, 
And  bother  myself  with  lore  at  all  ? 
Who  studies  much  becomes  a  guy. 
Myself,  I'd  rather  be  a  man, 
And  pay  people  to  learn  for  me. 
Although  I  have  a  clownish  mind, 
Yet  when  I  am  with  learned  folk, 
I  know  how  to  say  ' '  ita  ' '  for  yes. 
Of  German  orders  I  am  proud, 
For  little  L,atin  do  I  know. 
I  know  that  vinum  stands  for  wine, 
Cuadus  for  gawk,  stultus  for  fool, 
That  "  Domine  Doctor  "  I  am  called. 

1  Sebastian  Brant's  Narrenschiff,  herausgegebeu  von  F.  Zarnke.     Leipzig, 
1854. 


SEBASTIAN    BRANT.  4! 


If  my  ears  were  not  hid  for  me 
A  miller's  beast  you'd  quickly  see. 


Who  studies  not  the  proper  art, 
He  surely  wears  the  cap  and  bells, 
Is  led  forth  on  the  string  of  fools. 

(27)  Of  Useless  Studies. 
The  students  I  cannot  neglect; 
They  too  are  taxed  with  cap  and  bells, 
And  when  they  put  their  headgear  on 
The  point  may  somewhat  backward  hang. 
For  when  they  ought  to  study  hard, 
They'd  rather  go  and  fool  about. 
To  youth  all  learning's  trivial. 
Just  now  they'd  rather  spend  their  time 
With  what  is  vain  and  of  no  use. 
Tbe  masters  have  the  selfsame  fault, 
In  that  true  learning  they  despise 
And  useless  trash  alone  regard: 
As  to  whether  it's  day  or  night 
Or  whether  a  man  a  donkey  made, 
Or  Socrates  or  Plato  walked. 
Such  learning  now  the  schools  employs. 
Are  they  not  fools  and  stupid  quite 
That  go  about  by  day  and  night, 
Among  themselves  and  other  folk? 
For  better  learning  they've  no  care. 
Of  them  it  is  that  Origen 
Speaks,  when  he  says  that  they  are  like 
The  frogs  and  grasshoppers  that  once 
Th'  Egyptian  land  reduced  to  waste. 
And  so  the  young  men  get  them  hence 
While  we  at  Leipzig,  Erfnrt,  Wien, 
Heidelberg,  Mainz  and  Bale  hold  out. 
But  come  back  home  although  with  shame, 
The  money  by  that  time  is  spent. 
And  then  we're  glad  to  turn  to  trade, 
And  then  one  learns  to  bring  in  wine, 
And  soon  turns  out  a  serving-man. 
The  student  cap  will  get  its  bells. 


42  SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE    GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

MAXIMILIAN  I. 

Maximilian  I.,  emperor  of  Germany  from  1493  to  1519,  son  of  Frederick 
III.,  emperor  and  founder  of  the  Hapsburg  power  in  modern  Europe,  was 
born  in  1459.  *n  T477  Maximilian  married  Mary  of  Burgundy,  heiress  of 
Charles  the  Bold,  thereby  securing  to  his  line  the  succession  to  the  rich  pos- 
sessions of  the  house  of  Burgundy. 

In  addition  to  his  patronage  of  literature  and  the  arts,  Maximilian  found 
leisure  for  literary  composition.  Among  the  works  attributed  to  him  are  the 
Theuerdank,  a  poetical  allegory,  setting  forth  the  adventures  of  his  court- 
ship, and  the  Weisskunig,  a  general  record  of  his  life,  in  prose.  Just  what 
part  may  be  ascribed  to  Maximilian  in  the  preparation  of  this  work  is  uncer- 
tain. It  is  believed,  however,  that  the  emperor  furnished  the  material,  and 
that  the  literary  form,  of  the  Weisskunig  at  least,  was  the  contribution  of 
his  secretary,  Treitzsauerwein. 

from  THE  Weisskunig} 
How  the  Queen  gave  birth  to  a  son. 
When  now  the  time  of  the  child's  birth  drew  near,  there  was 
seen,  but  as  yet  not  clearly,  a  comet  in  the  sky,  and  it  gave  rise 
to  many  opinions.  The  old  white  king,  likewise  the  exiled 
prince  and  all  the  folk  of  the  entire  kingdom  cried  aloud  to  God, 
with  great  devotion,  asking  that  through  his  divine  grace  all  the 
people  might  have  occasion  to  rejoice  in  the  queen's  safe  delivery. 
When  any  Christian  man  contemplates  the  mighty  grace  which 
Almighty  Gcd  conferred  upon  them  both  in  this  world,  as  for 
example,  the  highest  spiritual  and  temporal  honor  of  their 
coronation  at  Rome;  and  when  he  thinks  as  well  of  their  piety 
and  humility,  that  in  their  love  of  God  they  visited  and  sought 
to  honor  all  holy  places  in  the  City  of  Rome  and  elsewhere;  then 
he  need  not  doubt  that  God  heard  this  prayer  out  of  his  benign 
tenderness,  for  all  good  things  come  from  God.  And  on  this  day 
and  at  the  hour  of  the  child's  birth  the  selfsame  comet  appeared 
much  larger  than  before  and  gave  forth  a  clear  and  brilliant  light. 
Although  comets,  for  many  reasons,  usually  make  melancholy 
the  heart  of  him  who  looks  upon  them,  yet  this  comet  with  its 
glow  was  pleasing  to  look  upon,  so  that  each  heart  was  moved  at 
the  sight  of  the  comet,  and  thereby  its  special  influence  was  a 
sign  and  revelation  of  the  child's  birth.     In   the  midst  of  this 

1  Der  Weiss  Kuuig  ;  eine  Erzehlung  von  den  Thaten  Kaiser  Maximilian  I., 
von  M.  Treitzsaurwein  auf  dessen  Angeben  zusammengetragen,  nebet  den 
von  H.  Burgmair  dazu  verfertigteu  Holzschnitten.     Wien,  1775. 


MAXIMILIAN    I.  43 

appearance  of  the  comet,  the  queen,  through  the  divine  grace 
granted  and  bestowed  upon  her,  in  the  city  called  the  Neustadt, 
bore  her  child  with  gentle  pains,  and  was  in  her  delivery  greatly 
rejoiced,  because  the  child  was  a  beautiful  son.  Then  out  of  joy 
they  began  to  ring  the  bells  and  throughout  the  whole  kingdom 
were  lighted  countless  fires  of  rejoicing.  How  great  was  the  joy 
of  the  old  white  king  and  all  the  people  of  his  kingdom,  over  this 
happy  birth.  Now  when  this  child  was  born,  the  comet  ceased  at 
once  with  its  glow,  whereb}'  it  is  to  be  recognized  that  the  same 
comet  was  a  token  of  the  child's  future  rule  and  of  his  wondrous 
deeds.  And  the  exiled  prince  recognized  that  by  this  comet 
his  counsel  was  confirmed  through  the  influence  of  heaven,  and 
he  also  requested  that  he  might  raise  the  child  from  the  baptismal 
font,  to  which  office  he  was  called  by  the  old  white  king,  since 
the  prince  himself  was  born  of  kingly  race.  One  thing  will  I 
make  known:  that  when  this  child  came  to  his  years  and  to  his 
rule,  he  was  most  victorious  and  most  warlike,  and  to  look  upon 
his  countenance  he  was  most  gracious,  which  indeed  is  wonderful 
to  see  in  one  who  is  warlike  and  of  all  most  warlike;  in  this  may 
be  recognized  the  comet's  bold  and  frank  appearance,  and  its 
gracious  aspect,  as  a  token  of  the  future. 

Note,  that  the  king's  countenance  is  likened  to  this  gracious 
aspect. 

How  the  young  white  king  learned  the  black  art. 

In  this  advancement  of  the  }roung  white  king,  his  father,  the 
old  white  king,  took  great  satisfaction,  and  his  heart  beat  so  high 
with  joy  that  a  terror  seized  him  when  he  thought  that  all  joys 
should  have  their  source  in  the  praise  and  honor  of  God  ;  and  in 
this  manner  his  spirit  was  deeply  moved  to  consider  the  future 
upholding  of  the  Christian  faith.  How  great  was  his  emotion  ! 
He  recalled  how  often  in  former  times,  powerful  kings  in  their 
later  years  were  fallen  awa}'  from  the  true  belief  into  a  new  faith, 
all  of  which  had  come  about  solely  through  the  seduction  of  the 
black  art.  Much  is  to  be  written  thereof,  but  as  a  proof  of  what 
I  write,  this  same  art  is  forbidden  in  the  Christian  faith  and  by 
the  ordinances  of  imperial  law,  and  exterminated,  whereby  it 
must  be  let  alone,  for  the  soul's  salvation  and  for  the  increase  of 
our  faith.  Although  this  art  is  damning  to  the  soul  and  an  in- 
jur}''to  our  faith,  yet  the  human  spirit  is  so  weak  and  diseased 


44  SOURCK-BOOK   OF    THE    GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

in  its  constancy,  in  its  determination  to  discover  hidden  things, 
that  this  art,  whose  false  basis  and  unreality  is  hidden,  is  so  very 
dear  to  man  that  many  come  thereby  into  error  and  despair. 
Now  the  young  white  king  often  heard  speak  of  this  art,  and  from 
time  to  time  he  chanced  to  see  the  very  ablest  writings,  wherein 
this  art  is  set  forth.  In  the  midst  of  the  joy  and  the  contempla- 
tion of  the  old  white  king,  as  related  above,  the  young  white  king 
came  to  him.  Then  spake  the  father  to  the  son  :  "  What  think 
you  and  how  do  you  regard  the  black  art,  which  is  a  damnation 
to  the  soul,  and  a  crime  and  seduction  to  men?  Are  you  not 
disposed  to  learn  it?"  Thus  did  the  father  for  the  purpose  of 
making  evident  to  him  the  hidden  seduction,  and  to  plant  future 
doubts.  The  son  gave  him  answer  :  "St.  Paul,  that  most  ex- 
cellent teacher  of  the  Christian  faith,  writes  and  commands  us 
that  we  shall  learn  all  things  and  experience  all  things,  but  avoid 
the  ill  and  cleave  to  that  which  is  good. ' '  Thereupon  spake  the 
father  to  the  son:  "Go  hence  and  take  to  yourself  the  most 
learned  man  in  the  black  art,  and  investigate  it  thoroughly  ;  but 
bear  in  mind  the  first  commandment  of  God  :  Thou  shalt  believe 
in  one  God  ;  and  also  St.  Paul's  teaching,  which  you  have  just 
indicated  to  me."  The  young  white  king  sought  out  an  espec- 
ially learned  man  in  the  black  art,  who  began  to  teach  him  with 
uncommon  industry,  with  the  idea  that  this  same  art  should  be 
looked  upon  by  the  prince  as  good  and  useful  and  held  dear. 
And  when  the  young  white  king  had  studied  it  for  a  time,  and 
satisfied  himself  of  its  uselessness,  he  discovered  that  the  art  was 
contrary  to  the  first  commandment  of  God,  which  reads  :  Thou 
shalt  believe  in  one  God;  and  for  the  first  time  he  understood  St. 
Paul's  teaching,  for  he  who  has  not  experience  of  it  easily  be- 
lieves, and  thereby  it  often  comes  about  that  he  is  led  astray. 
For  a  while  the  learned  man  disputed  with  the  young  white  king, 
in  order  to  discover  his  spirit  and  his  desire,  and  then  he  said  to 
him  :  ' '  This  art  is  an  art  whereby  great  lords  may  increase  their 
power."  Then  asked  the  young  white  king  of  him,  whether 
there  were  more  gods  than  one.  Thereupon  he  answered  :  ' '  There 
is  but  one  God."  Upon  this  answer  the  young  white  king  said  : 
"  You  have  spoken  truly,  and  thereby  is  the  black  art  vain,  and 
the  learning  which  I  have  discovered  in  the  same,  the  seduction 
of  our  faith."  From  this  speech  the  learned  man  easily  perceived 
that  he  was  sufficiently  wandered  in  this  lore.     With  how  great 


MAXIMILIAN   I.  45 

wisdom  had  the  old  white  king  made  the  reflection  above  related, 
and  how  prolific  of  usefulness  was  it  to  the  Christian  faith  ;  for 
when  the  young  white  king  came  into  his  years  and  into  his 
powerful  reign,  he  permitted  no  unbelief  nor  heresy  to  be  kindled 
or  spread  abroad,  which,  however,  have  often  obtained  the  upper 
hand  ;  and  indeed  it  has  happened  from  time  to  time  that,  through 
the  confidence  and  by  permission  of  inexperienced  men,  men  of 
evil  have  been  strengthened  in  their  desperate  enterprises  and 
have  adhered  to  them,  a  thing  which  these  kings  through  their 
careful  experience  and  their  especial  wisdom  have  avoided,  to  the 
salvation  and  happiness  of  their  souls  and  to  the  maintenance  of 
the  Christian  religion. 

How  the  young  white  king  came  to  the  young  queen,  and  how  he  was  received. 

When  the  young  white  king  was  on  his  way  to  visit  the  afore- 
said young  queen,  then  was  this  announced  to  the  two  queens 
aforesaid.  Thereupon  they  were  filled  with  great  joy  and  wrote 
at  once  to  all  their  retainers,  and  let  them  know  as  well  of  the 
approach  of  the  young  white  king.  The  retainers  tarried  not,  but 
came  without  hindrance  to  the  two  queens.  Then  counsel  was 
taken  of  them  as  to  how  the  young  white  king  should  be  received. 
Thereupon  was  written  to  the  young  white  king,  he  should  come 
into  the  city  named  Ghent,  and  the  two  queens,  with  their  re- 
tainers, would  also  come  thither;  and  as  soon  as  this  letter  had 
been  dispatched  to  the  young  white  king,  the  two  queens,  with 
their  retainers,  drew  into  the  said  city  and  there  awaited  the 
arrival  of  the  young  white  king,  who,  after  a  few  days,  himself 
came  thither;  and  on  the  same  day  that  he  entered  the  city  there 
rode  toward  him,  first,  the  citizens  of  the  city,  most  elegantly 
arrayed,  then  all  the  retainers,  princes,  bishops,  prelates,  counts, 
lords,  knights  and  squires,  a  great  multitude  ;  then  the  whole 
clergy,  with  all  the  sacred  relics,  in  a  procession,  and  all  the 
people  of  the  city,  and  received  the  young  king  with  great  honor 
and  high  distinction,  and  with  especial  joy;  and  he  too  rode  into 
the  city,  with  great  concourse,  in  costly  array  and  royal  honors, 
and  all  who  saw  him  felt  an  especial  pleasure  in  his  beautiful 
youth  and  upright  bearing,  and  the  common  folk  said,  they  had 
never  seen  a  finer  youth,  and  they  were  filled  with  amazement, 
that  the  old  white  king,  his  father,  should  have  sent  his  son,  in 
the  beauty  of  his  youth,  so  far  into  a  foreign  land;  and  the  young 


46  SOURCE-BOOK    OF  THE    GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

king  was  festively  entertained  at  his  lodging,  which  was  decorated 
for  him  in  the  richest  manner.  The  two  queens  had  prepared 
towards  evening  a  grand  banquet,  and  sent  to  the  young  king 
persons  of  high  degree,  to  invite  him  to  the  banquet,  where  the 
two  queens  would  receive  him  in  person;  and  when  he  would  go 
to  the  banquet  he  dressed  and  adorned  himself  with  elegant 
clothes  and  jewels,  and  went  with  his  princes,  nobles  and  knights, 
in  royal  array,  to  the  banquet.  Then  night  came  on  and  the 
throng  was  great,  and  there  were  many  torches,  for  each  wished 
to  see  the  young  white  king.  Meanwhile  the  two  queens  were 
alone  together  in  an  apartment,  and  conversing  together  said  that 
they  would  like  to  see  the  young  king  secretly.  Thereupon 
the  old  queen,  the  young  queen's  mother,  disguised  herself  in 
strange  garments  and  went  secretly  and  unknown  out  of  the 
apartment  into  the  hall,  where  the  young  white  king  should 
come.  Now  the  crowd  of  people  was  so  great  that  for  a  long  time 
the  old  queen  was  unable  to  get  past,  and  was  obliged  secretly  to 
seek,  and  when  finally  she  came  past  the  people,  at  that  same 
moment  the  young  white  king  entered  the  hall,  and  when  he  was 
pointed  out  to  her  at  first  she  would  not  believe  that  it  was  the 
young  white  king,  for  she  thought  he  was  too  handsome,  and 
that  she  had  never  seen  a  youth  so  fine,  and  she  tarried  to  see 
which  of  all  really  was  the  young  white  king.  And  now  she 
saw  that  all  honor  was  done  to  this  same  handsome  youth,  and 
moreover  that  he  was  escorted  by  the  mighty  archbishops  and 
princes,  and  that  this  youth  could  be  no  other  than  the  young 
white  king.  Thereupon  the  old  queen  went  in  haste  to  her 
daughter,  the  young  queen,  in  her  chamber,  and  said  from  the 
depths  of  her  heart:  "  O  daughter,  no  such  beautiful  youth  have 
I  seen  as  the  young  white  king  and  this  young  king  shall  be  thy 
lord  and  consort,  and  no  other."  From  these  words  it  is  seen 
that  the  king  of  France  and  his  son  came  to  grief  with  their 
secret  wooing,  which  I  have  mentioned  before. 

For  the  young  white  king  was  indeed  a  comely  youth,  well 
built  in  body  and  bone,  and  had  a  sweet  and  lovely  countenance 
and  wonderfully  beautiful  yellow  hair;  he  was  called,  on  account 
of  his  beauty  and  his  fitness,  the  white  king  w7ith  the  gracious 
countenance.  Now  when  the  young  white  king  stood  in  the 
middle  of  the  hall,  the  two  queens  advanced  to  him  with  great 
elegance  and  received  him  with  royal  honors,  with  great  joy  and 


DESIDERIUS    K RASMUS.  47 

friendliness.  And  as  soon  as  the  young  queen  saw  the  young 
white  king  she  was  much  pleased  with  his  person,  and  with  this 
same  contentment  her  heart  became  inflamed  with  honorable  love 
toward  him.  In  this  same  hour,  with  her  royal  consent,  the 
marriage  was  confidentially  discussed  and  joyfully  determined 
upon,  and  thereafter  the  banquet  with  great  enjoyment  carried 
out.  How  rich  in  joy  was  indeed  this  banquet,  where  such  a 
royal  marriage,  between  two  persons  of  the  greatest  worth  and 
beauty  was  concluded! 

DESIDERIUS  ERASMUS. 

Desiderius  Erasmus  (1467-1536),  as  he  called  himself  according  to  the  lit- 
erary fashion  of  the  time,  changing  the  name  of  Gerhard  to  its  Latin  and 
Greek  equivalent,  was  born  at  Rotterdam,  a  natural  son  of  Gerhard  of  Praet. 
Left  an  orphan  at  an  early  age,  he  was  induced  against  his  inclination  to 
take  monastic  vows  in  i486,  but  effected  his  release  from  a  life  which  he 
found  distasteful,  and  went  to  Paris  as  secretary  to  the  Bishop  of  Cambray. 
A  student  at  the  university  of  Paris,  Erasmus'  health  was  broken  with  the 
privations  undergone,  both  iu  Paris  and  during  the  following  years  of  scant 
existence.  To  Lord  Mouutjoy,  whom  he  tutored  at  Paris,  he  owed  an  intro- 
duction to  English  society,  and  an  acquaintance  with  the  English  scholars, 
More  and  Colet.  In  1506  he  made  the  journey  to  Italy,  and  published  from 
the  Aldine  Press  his  book  of  Adages  (printed  for  the  first  time  in  1500).  In 
1509  Erasmus  returned  to  England,  hoping  much  from  the  new  king,  Henry 
VIII.,  who  as  a  prince  was  favorably  inclined  toward  learning.  At  this  time 
he  composed  in  England  the  Praise  of  Folly,  best  known  of  Erasmus'  works, 
perhaps  because  the  Reformers  found  in  it  such  valuable  material  for  their 
attack  upon  the  Roman  church. 

Dissatisfied  with  England  as  a  place  of  residence,  partly  on  account  of  the 
indifference  of  the  king,  and  partly  because  of  its  remoteness  from  the  great 
centres  of  publication,  Erasmus  returned  to  the  continent  in  15 13,  and  took 
up  his  residence  at  Basel.  Here  he  lived  the  greater  part  of  his  remaining 
years,  engaged  in  literary  work.  The  Reformation  broke  in  rudely  upon 
his  labors.  While  sympathizing  with  Luther's  early  attempt  to  check  the 
abuses  of  the  <;hurch,  Erasmus'  interests  were  not  theological.  His  work — 
and  few  men  worked  more  strenuously — was  literary.  To  him  all  was  unwel- 
come that  threatened  the  repose  necessary  for  the  intellectual  development 
of  Europe.  The  Reformers,  unable  to  recognize  his  position  or  to  sympa- 
thize with  a  condition  of  indifference  toward  theological  matters,  branded 
him  a  moral  coward,  and  traces  of  this  unjust  stigma  have  outlived  the  per- 
iod of  dogmatic  controversy  and  lingered  on  into  modern  times. 

Of  Erasmus'  numerous  works  the  Colloquies  is  said  to  have  had  the  great- 
est immediate  circulation.  "No  book,"  says  Hoefer,  "passed  through  mi 
many  editions  in  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries  as  the  Colloquies 


48  SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

of  Erasmus.  In  them  the  author  is  found  at  his  best,  with  all  that  nicety  of 
observation,  that  caustic  and  incisive  vein,  that  purity,  that  versatility  and 
elegance  of  style  which  justify  for  Erasmus  the  name  of  the  Voltaire  of  the 
sixteenth  century." 

For  the  latest  contribution  from  a  scholarly  source  to  the  history  of  Eras- 
mus, cf.  Dr.  Ephraim  Emerton's  Desiderius  Erasmus,  in  the  Heroes  of  the 
Reformation  series,  Putnams,  N.  Y.,  1899. 

Two  COLLOQUIES.1 
/.   Naufragium. 

A.  These  are  dreadful  things  that  you  tell.  Is  that  sailing  ? 
God  forbid  that  any  such  idea  should  come  into  my  head. 

B.  Indeed,  what  I  have  related  is  mere  child's  play  compared 
with  what  you  are  about  to  hear. 

A.  I  have  heard  more  than  enough  of  mishaps.  I  shudder 
while  you  narrate  them,  as  though  I  myself  were  present  at  the 
danger. 

B.  Indeed,  to  me  past  struggles  are  pleasing.  That  night  some- 
thing happened  which  almost  took  away  the  captain's  last  hope 
of  safety. 

A.  What,  I  pray  ? 

B.  The  moon  was  bright  that  night,  and  one  of  the  sailors  was 
standing  on  the  round-top  (for  so  it  is  called,  I  believe)  keeping  a 
lookout  for  land.  A  globe  of  fire  appeared  beside  him.  It  is  con- 
sidered by  sailors  to  be  an  evil  omen  if  the  fire  be  single,  a  good 
omen  if  it  be  double.  In  ancient  times  these  were  thought  to  be 
Castor  and  Pollux. 

A.  What  have  they  to  do  with  sailors?  One  of  them  was  a 
horseman,  the  other  a  boxer. 

B.  Well,  this  is  the  view  of  the  poets.  The  captain  who  was 
sitting  at  the  helm,  spoke  up.  "  Mate,"  said  he,  (for  sailors  ad- 
dress each  other  in  this  manner),  "do  you  see  what  is  beside 
you?"  "  I  see,"  he  replied,  "  and  I  hope  it  may  be  lucky."  By 
and  hy  the  globe  of  fire  descended  along  the  rigging  and  rolled 
up  to  the  feet  of  the  captain  himself. 

A.  Did  he  perish  with  fear  ? 

B.  Sailors  are  accustomed  to  strange  sights.  The  globe  stayed 
there  a  while,  then  rolled  along  the  side  of  the  vessel  and  dis- 
appeared down  through  the  middle  of  the  deck.     About  noon  the 

1  Opera  omnia  (edidit  J.  Clericus)  Lvgd.  Bat.,  P.  van  der  Aa.  1703-1706. 


DESIDERIUS   ERASMUS.  49 

storm  began  to  rage  with  greater  fury.     Have  )tou  ever  seen  the 
Alps? 

A.  Yes,  I  have  seen  them. 

B.  Those  mountains  are  mole-hills  compared  with  the  waves  of 
he  sea.  When  we  were  lifted  up  on  the  crest  of  a  wave,  we 
might  have  touched  the  moon  with  our  fingers.  As  often  as  we 
went  down  between  the  billows,  we  seemed  to  be  going  direct  to 
the  infernal  regions,  the  earth  opening  to  receive  us. 

A.  Foolish  people,  that  trust  themselves  to  the  sea  ! 

B.  The  sailors  struggled  in  vain  against  the  tempest,  and  at 
length  the  captain,  quite  pale,  came  toward  us. 

A.  That  pallor  presages  some  great  evil. 

B.  "  Friends,"  says  he,  I  have  lost  control  of  my  ship.  The  winds 
have  conquered  me,  and  nothing  remains  but  to  put  our  trust  in 
God,  and  for  every  one  to  prepare  himself  for  the  last  extremity." 

A.  O  speech  truly  Scythian  ! 

B.  "  But  first,"  says  he,  "  we  shall  relieve  the  ship  of  her  cargo. 
Necessity,  a  stern  mistress,  commands  this.  It  is  better  to  save 
our  lives,  with  the  loss  of  our  goods,  than  to  perish  along  with 
our  goods."  The  truth  of  this  was  evident  to  us  ;  and  many  ves- 
sels full  of  precious  wares  were  thrown  into  the  sea. 

A.  This  was  indeed  a  loss  ! 

B.  There  was  a  certain  Italian  who  had  been  upon  an  embassy 
to  the  king  of  Scotland  ;  he  had  a  box  full  of  silver  vessels,  rings, 
cloth  and  silk  garments. 

A.  Would  he  not  compound  with  the  sea  ? 

B.  No;  he  wished  either  to  perish  with  his  beloved  wealth,  or 
to  be  saved  along  with  it ;  and  so  he  refused. 

A.  Wxhat  did  the  captain  say  ? 

B.  "  So  far  as  we  are  concerned,"  says  he,  "  you  are  welcome 
to  perish  with  your  traps  ;  but  it  is  not  right  that  we  should  all 
be  endangered  for  the  sake  of  your  box,  and  rather  than  that  we 
will  throw  you  headlong  into  the  sea,  along  with  your  box." 

A.  A  speech  worthy  of  a  sailor. 

B.  So  the  Italian  also  made  his  contribution,  with  many  im- 
precations upon  the  powers  above  and  those  below,  that  he  had 
trusted  his  life  to  so  barbarous  an  element.  A  little  later  the 
winds,  in  no  wise  softened  by  our  offerings,  broke  the  rigging  and 
tore  the  sails  into  shreds. 

A.  Alas  !  alas  ! 


50  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE    GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

B.  Again  the  sailor  approaches  us, — 

A.  With  further  information  ? 

B.  He  greets  us.  "  Friends,"  says  he,  "  It  is  time  that  every- 
body should  commend  himself  to  God  and  prepare  for  death." 
When  certain  ones  who  had  some  knowledge  of  the  sea  asked 
him  how  many  hours  he  thought  he  could  keep  afloat,  he  said  he 
could  not  say  for  certain,  but  that  it  would  not  be  above  three 
hours. 

A.  This  information  was  more  serious  than  the  former. 

B.  With  these  words  he  ordered  all  ropes  to  be  severed  and  the 
mast  cut  with  a  saw  close  to  the  deck,  and  to  let  it  go  by  the 
board  together  with  the  yards. 

A.  Why  was  this  done  ? 

B.  Because,  since  the  sails  were  gone  or  torn  to  pieces,  it  was  a 
burden  rather  than  a  help.     All  our  hope  was  in  the  helm. 

A.  What  were  the  passengers  doing  meanwhile? 

B.  There  you  might  have  seen  a  miserable  condition  of  affairs. 
The  sailors,  singing  "  Salve,  regtna,"  implored  the  Virgin  mother, 
calling  her  star  of  the  sea,  queen  of  heaven,  ruler  of  the  world, 
harbor  of  safety,  and  flattering  her  with  many  other  titles,  which 
the  hol3r  scriptures  nowhere  attribute  to  her. 

A.  What  has  she  to  do  with  the  sea,  who  never  sailed,  so  far 
as  I  know  ? 

B.  Venus  formerly  had  the  care  of  sailors,  because  she  was  sup- 
posed to  have  been  born  of  the  sea  ;  since  she  has  ceased  her  care 
of  them,  the  Virgin  mother  has  been  substituted  for  her,  in  her 
maternal,  not  in  her  virginal  capacit5r. 

A.  You  are  joking. 

B.  Some  fell  down  upon  the  decks  and  worshiped  the  sea,  pour- 
ing into  the  waves  whatever  oil  was  at  hand,  flattering  it  not 
otherwise  than  we  used  to  flatter  an  angry  prince. 

A.  What  did  they  say  ? 

B.  "  O,  most  merciful  sea!  O,  most  noble  sea!  O,  most 
wealthy  sea  !  Have  pity,  save  us  !  "  Many  things  of  this  sort 
they  sang  to  the  deaf  sea. 

A.  Absurd  superstition  !     What  were  the  others  doing  ? 

B.  Some  were  sufficiently  occupied  with  sea-sickness  ;  but  most 
of  them  offered  vows.  Among  them  was  a  certain  Englishman, 
who  promised  mountains  of  gold  to  our  Lady  of  Walsingham,  if 
only  he  might  touch  land  alive.     Some  promised  many  things  to 


DESIDERIUS   ERASMUS.  5 1 

the  wood  of  the  cross,  which  was  in  such  a  place  ;  others  again  to 
the  same  in  another  place.  The  same  was  done  in  the  case  of  the 
Virgin  Mary,  who  reigns  in  many  places  ;  and  they  think  the  vow 
is  of  no  avail,  unless  you  name  the  place. 

A.  Absurd  !  as  if  the  saints  did  not  dwell  in  the  heavens. 

B.  There  were  some  who  promised  to  be  Carthusians.  One 
promised  to  go  to  James,  who  lives  at  Compostella,  with  bare 
hands  and  feet,  his  body  covered  only  with  an  iron  coat  of  mail, 
begging  his  food  besides. 

A.  Did  nobody  mention  Christopher  ? 

B.  I  could  scarcely  refrain  from  smiling  when  I  heard  one  with 
a  loud  voice,  lest  he  should  not  be  heard,  promise  Christopher, 
who  is  in  Paris,  at  the  top  of  a  church,  a  mountain  rather  than 
a  statue,  a  wax  candle  as  big  as  he  himself.  While  he  was  bawl- 
ing this  out  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  with  now  and  then  an  addi- 
tional emphasis,  some  acquaintance  who  was  standing  by  touched 
him  on  the  elbow  and  advised  him,  saying,  "  Have  a  care  what 
you  promise;  for  if  you  sell  all  your  goods  at  auction,  you  will 
not  be  able  to  pay."  Then  says  he,  in  a  lower  tone,  lest 
Christopher  should  hear:  "  Hold  your  tongue,  fool;  do  you  think 
I  am  in  earnest?  When  once  I  have  touched  land,  I  will  not  give 
him  a  tallow  candle." 

A.  O,  heavy  wit!     I  take  it  he  was  a  Dutchman. 

B.  No,  but  he  was  a  Zealauder. 

A.  I  wonder  that  nobody  thought  of  Paul  the  Apostle.  He 
himself  sailed,  and  when  the  ship  was  wrecked,  leaped  ashore;  for 
he  learned  through  misfortune  to  succor  the  unfortunate. 

B.  There  was  no  mention  of  Paul. 

A.  Did  they  pray  meanwhile  ? 

B.  Earnestly.  One  sang  "Salve  !  regina"  another  "Credo  in 
Deum."  Some  there  were  who  had  especial  prayers,  not  unlike 
magic  formulas,  against  danger. 

A.  How  religious  we  are  in  times  of  affliction!  In  times  of 
prosperity  neither  God  nor  saints  conies  into  our  head.  What 
were  you  doing  all  this  time?  Did  you  offer  vows  to  none  of  the 
saints  ? 

B.  Not  one. 

A.  Why  not? 

B.  Because  I  do  not  drive  bargains  with  the  saints.  For  what 
is  it  other  than  a  contract  according  to  form  ?     "I  will  give  this, 


52  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE    GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

if  you  will  do  that ;  I  will  give  you  a  wax  candle,  if  I  swim  out  of 
this;  I  will  go  to  Rome,  if  you  will  save  me." 

A.  But  you  sought  the  protection  of  some  saint  ? 

B.  Not  even  that. 

A.  Why  not  ? 

B.  Because  Heaven  is  a  large  place.  If  I  commend  myself  to 
some  saint,  St.  Peter  for  example,  who  is  most  likely  to  hear  me 
first  of  all,  since  he  stands  at  the  door;  before  he  goes  to  God  and 
explains  my  case  I  shall  be  already  lost. 

A.  What  did  you  do,  then  ? 

B.  I  went  immediately  to  the  Father  himself,  saying  :  "  Our 
Father  who  art  in  heaven."  None  of  the  saints  hears  sooner 
than  He,  nor  gives  more  willingly  what  is  asked. 

A.  But  in  the  meanwhile  did  not  your  conscience  cry  out 
against  you  ?  were  you  not  afraid  to  call  him  Father  whom  you 
have  offended  with  so  many  transgressions  ? 

B.  To  tell  the  truth,  my  conscience  did  terrify  me  a  little;  but 
presently  I  gathered  courage,  thinking  to  myself  as  follows: 
There  is  no  father  so  angry  with  his  son,  but,  if  he  sees  him  in 
danger,  in  a  river  or  lake,  would  seize  him  by  the  hair  and  draw 
him  out  upon  the  bank.  Amongst  them  all  no  one  behaved  more 
quietly  than  a  certain  woman  who  had  a  bah}'  in  her  arms,  which 
she  wras  nursing. 

A.  What  did  she  do? 

B.  She  was  the  only  one  who  did  not  cry  or  weep  or  promise. 
Embracing  her  child,  she  prayed  silently.  In  the  meantime  the 
ship  struck  now7  and  then,  and  the  captain.  Tearing  lest  it  should 
go  to  pieces,  bound  it  fore  and  aft  with  cables. 

A.  What  a  miserable  makeshift! 

B.  Meanwhile  an  aged  priest,  sixty  years  old,  whose  name  was 
Adam,  comes  foreword.  Casting  off  his  clothes  even  to  his  shirt 
and  his  leather  stockings  as  well,  he  ordered  that  we  should  pre- 
pare ourselves  in  a  similar  manner  for  swimming;  and  standing 
thus  in  the  middle  of  the  ship  he  preached  to  us  out  of  Gerson  the 
five  truths  concerning  the  usefulness  of  confession,  exhorting  us 
all  to  prepare  ourselves  for  life  or  death.  There  was  present  also 
a  Dominican.     Those  who  wished  confessed  to  these. 

A.  What  did  you  do? 

B.  Seeing  that  confusion  reigned  everywhere,  I  confessed 
silently  to  God,  condemning  before  him  my  unrighteousness  and 
imploring  his  mercy. 


DESIDERIUS   ERASMUS.  53 

A.  Whither  would  you  have  gone,  if  you  had  died  thus  ? 

B.  I  left  that  to  God  as  judge;  nor  was  I  disposed  to  be  my 
own  judge;  yet  in  the  meantime  I  was  not  without  some  hope. 
While  these  things  were  going  on,  the  sailor  returns  to  us  weep- 
ing. "  Let  every  one  prepare  himself,"  says  he,  "  for  the  ship  will 
not  last  us  beyond  another  quarter  of  an  hour."  For  it  was  badly 
broken,  and  the  sea  was  rushing  in.  A  little  later  the  sailor  in- 
formed us  that  he  saw  a  church  tower,  and  advised  us  to  pray  to 
the  saint  for  aid,  whoever  might  be  the  patron  of  that  church. 
All  fall  upon  their  knees  and  pray  to  the  unknown  saint. 

A.  If  you  had  called  him  by  name  perhaps  he  might  have 
heard  you. 

B.  He  was  unknown  to  us.  Meanwhile  the  captain  steers  the 
ship,  shattered  as  it  was,  and  leaking  at  every  seam,  and 
evidently  ready  to  fall  to  pieces,  had  it  not  been  bound  with 
cables. 

A.  A  sad  condition  of  affairs. 

B.  We  came  so  far  in  shore  that  the  inhabitants  of  the  place 
saw  our  danger;  and  running  in  crowds  to  the  beach,  they  held 
up  their  coats  and  put  their  hats  upon  lances,  to  attract  our 
attention;  and  threwT  their  arms  upward  toward  the  skies,  to 
signify  that  they  were  sorry  for  us. 

A.  I  am  anxious  to  know  what  happened. 

B.  The  sea  had  already  invaded  the  whole  ship,  so  that  we 
were  likely  to  be  no  safer  in  the  ship  than  in  the  sea. 

A.  Then  you  were  obliged  to  flee  to  the  holy  anchor  ? 

B.  Nay,  to  the  miserable  one.  The  sailors  bail  out  the  boat 
and  lower  it  into  the  sea.  All  attempt  to  crowd  into  it,  and  the 
sailors  remonstrate  vigorously,  crying  that  the  boat  is  not  able  to 
hold  such  a  crowd;  that  each  one  should  lay  hold  of  whatever  he 
could  find  and  take  to  swimming.  There  was  no  opportunity  for 
deliberation.  One  took  an  oar,  another  a  boat-hook,  another  a 
sink,  another  a  plank;  and  all  took  to  the  waves,  each  one  resting 
upon  his  means  of  salvation. 

A.  In  the  meantime  what  became  of  that  poor  woman,  who 
alone  did  not  cry  out  ? 

B.  She  came  first  of  all  to  laud. 

A.  How  was  that  possible  ? 

B.  We  placed  her  upon  a  wide  board,  and  lashed  her  on  so  that 
she  could  not  very  well  fall  off.    We  gave  her  a  paddle  in  her  hand 


54  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

which  she  might  use  instead  of  an  oar,  and,  wishing  her  well,  we 
set  her  adrift,  pushing  her  forward  with  a  pole,  so  that  she  might 
float  wide  of  the  ship,  from  which  there  was  danger.  She  held 
her  baby  with  her  left  hand  and  paddled  with  her  right. 

A.  What  a  courageous  woman! 

B.  When  nothing  was  left,  some  one  pulled  down  a  wooden 
image  of  the  Virgin  Mother,  now  rotten  and  hollowed  out  by  the 
rats,  and  embracing  it,  began  to  swim. 

A.  Did  the  boat  arrive  safe  ? 

B.  The}'  were  the  first  ones  to  be  lost. 

A.  How  did  that  happen  ? 

B.  Before  it  could  get  clear  of  the  ship  it  tipped  and  was  over- 
turned. 

A.  How  badly  managed  !     What  then  ? 

B.  While  watching  the  others  I  nearly  perished  myself. 

A.  How  so  ? 

B.  Because  nothing  remained  for  me  to  swim  upon. 

A.  Corks  would  have  been  of  use  there. 

B.  Just  at  this  time  I  would  rather  have  had  some  cheap  cork 
than  a  golden  candlestick.  Finally,  as  I  was  looking  about,  it 
occurred  to  me  that  the  stump  of  the  mast  would  be  of  use  to  me  ; 
but  as  I  could  not  get  it  out  alone,  I  got  a  companion  to  help  me. 
We  both  threw  ourselves  upon  it  and  so  committed  ourselves  to 
the  sea,  I  upon  the  right  end,  he  upon  the  left.  While  we  were 
thus  tossing  about,  that  priest,  the  sea  chaplain,  threw  himself 
upon  the  middle,  between  our  shoulders.  He  was  a  stout  man. 
We  cried  out :  "  Who  is  this  third  man  ?  He  will  cause  us  all  to 
perish!"  He,  on  the  other  hand,  mildly  replied  :  ''Be  of  good 
cheer  ;  there  is  room  enough.     God  will  be  with  us." 

A.  Why  did  he  take  to  swimming  so  late  ? 

B.  He  was  to  have  been  with  the  Dominican  in  the  boat,  for 
all  deferred  to  him  in  this  ;  but  although  they  had  confessed  to 
one  another  on  the  ship,  yet  they  had  forgotten  something,  I 
know  not  what,  and  began  confessing  again  at  the  ship's  rail,  and 
one  laid  his  hand  upon  the  other.  Meanwhile  the  boat  was  lost ; 
for  Adam  himself  told  me  this. 

A.  What  became  of  the  Dominican  ? 

B.  He,  the  same  one  told  me,  implored  the  saints'  help,  put  off 
his  clothes  and  took  to  swimming  all  naked. 

A.  What  saints  did  he  invoke? 


DESIDERIUS    ERASMUS.  55 

B.  Dominic,  Thomas,  Vincent  ;  but  he  relied  most  upon  Cath- 
arine of  Sens. 

A.  Did  not  Christ  come  into  his  mind  ? 

B.  This  is  what  the  priest  told  me. 

A.  He  would  have  swum  better  had  he  not  put  off  his  holy 
cowl  ;  with  that  off,  how  could  Catharine  of  Sens  recognize  him  ? 
But  go  on  about  yourself. 

B.  While  we  were  tossing  about  near  the  ship,  which  rolled 
hither  and  thither  at  the  mercy  of  the  waves,  the  helm  broke  the 
thigh  of  him  who  held  the  left  end  of  our  float,  and  he  was 
knocked  off.  The  priest  prayed  for  his  eternal  rest,  and  suc- 
ceeded to  his  place,  urging  me  to  hold  courageously  to  my  end 
and  move  my  feet  actively.  In  the  meanwhile  we  swallowed 
a  great  deal  of  salt  water.  Neptune  had  mixed  for  us  not  only  a 
salt  bath,  but  a  salt  drink  ;  but  the  priest  soon  had  a  remedy  for 
that. 

A.  What,  I  pray  ? 

B.  As  often  as  a  wave  came  toward  us,  he  turned  the  back  of 
his  head  to  it  with  his  mouth  firmly  closed. 

A.  You  say  he  was  a  stout  old  man  ? 

B.  Swimming  thus  for  some  time  we  had  made  considerable 
progress  when  the  priest,  who  was  a  man  of  unusual  height, 
said:  "  Be  of  good  cheer;  I  feel  bottom."  Not  having  dared  to 
hope  for  such  happiness,  I  replied:  "  We  are  yet  too  far  from 
shore  to  hope  to  find  bottom."  "  No,"  he  said,  "  I  feel  the 
ground  with  my  feet."  "  It  is,"  I  rejoined,  "some  of  the  boxes, 
perhaps,  which  the  sea  has  tumbled  thither."  "  No,"  said  lie, 
"I  plainly  feel  the  earth  by  scratching  with  my  tecs.''  We 
swam  on  for  some  time  longer,  and  he  felt  bottom  again.  "  You 
do,"  he  said,  "what  seems  to  you  best.  I  will  give  you  the 
whole  mast  and  trust  myself  to  the  bottom:  "  and  at  the  same 
time  waiting  for  the  waves  to  flow  outward,  he  went  forward  as 
rapidly  as  he  could.  When  the  waves  came  again  upon  him, 
holding  firmly  to  his  knees  with  both  hands  he  met  the  wave, 
sinking  beneath  it  as  sea-gulls  and  ducks  are  accustomed  to  do; 
and  when  the  wave  again  receded  he  sprang  up  and  ran.  Seeing 
that  this  succeeded  in  his  case,  I  did  the  same.  Then  some  of 
the  strongest  of  those  who  stood  upon  the  beach,  and  those  most 
used  to  the  waves,  fortified  themselves  against  the  force  of  the 
waves  with  long  poles  stretched  between  them,  so  that  the  outer- 


56  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE    GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

most  held  out  a  pole  to  the  swimmer;  and  when  he  had  grasped 
it,  the  whole  line  moved  shorewards  and  so  he  was  drawn  safely 
on  dry  land.     Some  were  saved  in  this  manner. 

A.  How  many  ? 

B.  Seven  ;  but  of  these  two  fainted  with  the  heat,  when  set 
before  the  fire. 

A.  How  many  wrere  you  in  the  ship  ? 

B.  Fifty-eight. 

A.  O,  cruel  sea!  At  least  it  might  have  been  content  with  the 
tithes,  which  suffice  for  the  priests.  Did  it  return  so  few  out  of 
so  great  a  number  ? 

B.  We  were  surprisingly  well  treated  by  the  people,  who  fur- 
nished us  with  all  things  with  wonderful  cheerfulness,  lodging, 
fire,  food,  clothes,  and  provisions  for  our  homeward  journey. 

A.  What  people  were  the}-  ? 

B.  Dutch. 

A.  No  people  are  more  civil,  although  they  are  surrounded 
with  savage  nations.     You  will  not  go  to  sea  again,  I  take  it  ? 

B.  No,  not  unless  God  sees  fit  to  take  away  my  senses. 

A.  And  as  for  me,  I  would  rather  hear  such  tales  than  know 
them  by  experience. 

II.  Diversoria. 

A.  Why  do  so  many  people  stop  over  for  two  or  three  days  at 
Dyons?  As  for  me,  when  I  start  upon  a  journey  I  do  not  rest 
until  I  come  to  my  destination. 

B.  Indeed,  I  wonder  that  any  one  can  be  got  away  from  the 
place. 

A.  Why,  I  pray  ? 

B.  Because  that  is  the  place  the  companions  of  Ulysses  could 
not  have  been  drawn  away  from.  The  Sirens  are  there.  No  one 
is  treated  better  in  his  own  home  than  there  at  an  inn. 

A.  What  do  they  do  ? 

B.  Some  woman  was  always  standing  near  the  table  to  divert 
the  guests  with  wit  and  fun.  First  the  woman  of  the  house  came 
to  us,  greeted  us,  and  bade  us  to  be  of  good  cheer  and  make  the 
best  of  what  was  set  before  us.  Then  came  the  daughter,  a  fine 
woman,  merry  in  manner  and  tongue,  so  that  she  might  have 
amused  Cato  himself.  Nor  do  they  talk  to  their  guests  as  if  they 
were  strangers,  but  as  if  they  wTere  old  acquaintances. 

A.  Yes,  I  admit  that  the  French  people  are  very  civil. 


DESIDERIUS    ERASMUS.  57 

B.  But  since  they  could  not  be  present  all  the  time,  and  the 
business  of  the  house  had  to  be  attended  to  and  the  other  guests 
greeted,  a  girl  well  supplied  with  jokes  attended  us  during  the 
whole  meal.  She  was  well  able  to  repay  all  jesters  in  their  own 
coin.  She  kept  the  stories  going  until  the  daughter  returned,  for 
the  mother  was  somewhat  elderly. 

A.  But  what  sort  of  fare  had  you  with  all  this?  For  the 
stomach  is  not  filled  with  stories. 

B.  Fine  !  Indeed,  I  wonder  that  they  can  entertain  guests  so 
cheaply.  Then  too,  after  dinner  they  divert  you  with  pleasant 
conversation,  lest  you  should  grow  weary.  It  seemed  to  me  I  was 
at  home,  not  travelling. 

A.  How  about  the  sleeping  accommodations? 

B.  Even  there  we  were  attended  by  girls,  laughing,  romping 
and  playing  ;  they  asked  us  if  we  had  any  soiled  clothes,  washed 
them  for  us  and  brought  them  back.  What  more  can  I  say  ?  We 
saw  nothing  but  women  and  girls,  except  in  the  stables  ;  and  even 
there  they  burst  in  occasionally.  They  embrace  departing  guests 
and  send  them  away  with  as  much  affection  as  if  they  were  all 
brothers  or  near  relations. 

A.  Very  likely  such  manners  suit  the  French  ;  as  for  me,  the 
customs  of  Germany  please  me  more.     They  are  more  manly. 

B.  I  never  happened  to  visit  Germany  ;  so  tell  me,  I  beg  of  you, 
in  what  manner  the  Germans  entertain  a  guest. 

A.  I  am  not  certain  that  the  process  is  everywhere  the  same. 
I  will  relate  what  I  have  seen.  Upon  your  arrival  nobody  greets 
you,  lest  they  should  seem  to  court  a  guest  ;  for  they  consider 
that  mean  and  unworthy  of  the  German  gravity.  When  you 
have  shouted  yourself  hoarse,  finally  some  one  puts  out  his  head 
from  the  window  of  the  stove-room  (for  they  live  there  up  to  the 
middle  of  the  summer),  just  as  a  snail  pokes  its  head  out  of  its 
shell.  You  have  to  ask  him  if  you  may  be  entertained  there. 
If  he  does  not  tell  you  no,  you  understand  that  place  will  be  made 
for  you.  To  your  inquiries,  with  a  wave  of  his  hand,  he  indi- 
cates where  the  stables  are.  There  you  are  permitted  to  take 
care  of  your  horse  as  you  choose;  for  no  servant  lifts  a  linger. 
If  the  tavern  is  a  large  one,  a  servant  will  show  you  the  stables 
and  a  rather  inconvenient  place  lor  your  horse.  They  keep  the 
better  places  for  those  who  are  to  come,  especially  for  the  nobility. 
If  you  find  fault  with  anything,  you  are  told   at  once  that  if  it 


58  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE    GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

does  not  please  you,  you  are  at  liberty  to  hunt  another  tavern. 
In  the  cities  it  is  with  difficult}-  that  you  can  get  any  hay,  even  a 
little,  and  then  they  sell  it  almost  as  dear  as  oats.  When  your 
horse  is  provided  for,  }'ou  go  just  as  you  are  to  the  stove  room, 
boots,  baggage  and  mud.     There  is  one  room  for  all  comers 

B.  Among  the  French  they  show  the  guests  to  sleeping-rooms, 
where  they  may  change  their  clothes,  bathe  and  warm  them- 
selves, or  even  take  a  nap,  if  they  please. 

A.  Well,  there  is  no  such  thing  here.  In  the  stove-room  you 
take  off  your  boots  and  put  on  slippers.  If  you  like,  you  change 
3'our  shirt ;  you  hang  your  clothes,  wet  with  rain,  against  the 
stove  ;  and  you  sit  by  it  yourself,  in  order  to  get  dry.  There  is 
water  at  hand  if  you  care  to  wash  your  hands,  but  it  is  generally 
so  clean  that  you  have  to  seek  more  water  to  wrash  off  that 
ablution. 

B.  I  cannot  refrain  from  praising  men  who  are  so  little  softened 
with  the  elegancies  of  living. 

A.  Even  if  you  arrive  the  fourth  hour  after  noon  3-ou  cannot 
get  your  supper  before  the  ninth,  and  sometimes  the  tenth. 

B.  Why  is  that  ? 

A.  They  serve  nothing  until  the)^  see  all  the  guests  assembled, 
in  order  that  the  same  effort  may  serve  for  all. 

B.  They  have  an  eye  to  labor-saving. 

A.  You  are  right.  And  thus  very  often  eighty  or  ninety  per- 
sons are  assembled  in  the  same  stove-room,  footmen,  horsemen, 
tradesmen,  sailors,  coachmen,  farmers,  boys,  women,  healthy 
people  and  sick  people. 

B.  That  is  in  truth  a  community  of  living. 

A.  One  is  combing  his  head,  another  wiping  the  perspiration 
from  his  face,  another  cleaning  his  winter  shoes  or  boots,  another 
reeks  of  garlic.  What  more  could  you  desire?  Here  is  no  less 
confusion  of  tongue  and  of  persons  than  there  was  once  in  the 
tower  of  Babel.  But  if  they  see  a  foreigner,  who  shows  some 
evidence  of  distinction  in  his  dress,  they  are  all  interested  in  him, 
and  stare  at  him  as  if  he  were  some  animal  from  Africa.  Even 
after  they  are  at  the  table  they  turn  their  heads  to  get  a  look, 
and  neglect  their  meals  rather  than  lose  sight  of  him. 

B.  At  Rome,  Paris  and  Venice  no  one  wonders  at  anything. 
A.   Meanwhile    you    ma)-    not    call   for   anything.     When   the 

evening  is  far  advanced  and  no  more  guests  are  expected,  an  old 


DESIDERIUS    ERASMUS.  59 

servant   appears,  with  gray  beard,  cropped  head,  a  savage  look 
and  shabby  clothes. 

B.  It  was  necessary  that  such  should  be  cup-bearers  to  the 
Roman  Cardinals. 

A.  He  casts  his  eye  about  and  silently  reckons  how  many 
there  are  in  the  stove-room.  The  more  there  are  present  the 
more  violently  the  stove  is  heated,  although  the  weather  may  be 
uncomfortably  warm  outside.  This  is  the  certain  indication  of 
hospitality,  that  eve^body  should  be  dripping  with  sweat.  If 
anyone  who  is  not  used  to  this  steaming,  should  open  a  chink  of 
a  window,  lest  he  be  stifled,  immediately  he  hears:  "Shut  it!" 
If  you  reply:  "  I  cannot  bear  it!  "  you  hear:  "Then  look  out  for 
another  tavern  !  " 

B.  It  seems  to  me  there  is  nothing  more  dangerous  than  for  so 
many  persons  to  breathe  the  same  air,  especially  when  the  pores 
are  open,  and  then  dine  and  stay  there  several  hours.  Not  to 
speak  of  the  odor  of  garlic  and  bad  breaths.  There  are  many, 
too,  who  are  affected  with  secret  diseases,  and  every  distemper  is 
to  a  certain  degree  infectious.  Certainly  many  have  the  Spanish, 
or  as  some  call  it,  the  French  evil,  although  it  is  common  enough 
to  all  nations.  I  think  there  is  not  much  less  danger  from  these 
than  from  lepers.  Just  think,  too,  how  great  danger  there  is  from 
the  plague! 

A.  Oh,  they  are  sturdy  fellows.     They  laugh  at  these  things. 

B.  But  at  the  same  time  they  are  brave  at  the  expense  of 
many. 

A.  Well,  what  can  you  do  about  it?  They  are  accustomed  to 
it,  and  it  is  a  sign  of  a  constant  mind  not  to  depart  from  estab- 
lished customs. 

B.  Twenty-five  years  ago  nothing  was  more  common  among 
the  people  of  Brabant  than  public  baths  ;  now  there  is  hardly  one 
to  be  found,  for  the  new  ailment  has  taught  us  to  avoid  them. 

A.  But  listen  to  the  rest.  The  bearded  Ganymede  returns  and 
spreads  with  linen  clothe  as  main-  tables  as  he  considers  necessary 
for  the  number  of  guests.  But  heavens  and  earth  !  how  far  from 
fine  are  the  cloths.  You  would  say  they  were  sail-cloths  taken 
down  from  the  yard-arms  of  a  ship.  He  has  reckoned  on  eight 
guests  to  each  table.  Those  who  know  the  custom  of  the  coun- 
try now  sit  down,  each  one  where  he  pleases  ;  for  no  distinction 
is  made  between  a  poor  man  and  a  rich  man,  between  a  master 
and  a  servant. 


60  SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE   GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

B.  That  is  the  old  equality  which  tyranny  has  driven  out  of 
existence.     Thus,  I  believe,  Christ  lived  with  his  disciples. 

A.  Well,  after  all  are  seated,  the  grim  Ganymede  comes  out  and 
counts  over  his  company  once  more.  By  and  by  he  returns  and 
sets  before  each  guest  a  wooden  dish  and  a  spoon  of  the  same  kind 
of  silver ;  then  a  glass  and  a  little  piece  of  bread.  Each  one 
polishes  up  his  utensils  in  a  leisurely  way,  while  the  porridge  is 
cooking.  And  thus  they  sit  not  uncommonly  for  upwards  of  an 
hour. 

B.  Does  no  guest  call  for  food  in  the  meantime  ? 

A.  No  one  who  is  acquainted  with  the  temper  of  the  country. 
At  length  wine  is  served — good  Lord,  how  far  from  being  taste- 
less !  Those  who  water  their  wine  ought  to  drink  no  other  kind, 
it  is  so  thin  and  sharp.  But  if  any  guest  seeks  to  obtain  some 
other  kind  of  wine,  offering  to  pay  extra  for  it,  at  first  they  dis- 
semble, but  with  an  expression  as  if  the}'  wished  to  murder  you. 
If  you  insist  upon  it  they  answer  that  a  great  many  counts  and 
margraves  have  lodged  there  and  none  of  them  has  complained  of 
the  quality  of  the  wine  ;  if  it  does  not  suit  you,  why  then,  look 
out  for  another  tavern,  for  they  look  upon  their  noblemen  as  the 
only  men  of  importance,  and  exhibit  their  coats  of  arms  every- 
where. Already,  then,  the  guests  have  a  crust  to  throw  to  their 
barking  stomachs.  By  and  by  the  dishes  come  on  in  great  array. 
The  first  usually  consists  of  pieces  of  bread  soaked  in  meat-broth, 
or,  if  it  be  fish-day,  in  a  broth  of  herbs.  After  this  comes  another 
kind  of  broth,  then  some  kind  of  warmed-up  meat  or  salt  fish. 
Again  the  porridge  is  brought  on,  then  some  more  substantial 
food,  until,  when  the  stomach  is  well  tamed,  they  serve  up  roast 
meat  or  boiled  fish,  which  is  not  to  be  despised.  But  here  they 
are  sparing,  and  take  the  dishes  away  quickly.  In  this  way  they 
diversify  the  entertainment,  like  play-actors  who  mix  choruses 
with  their  scenes,  taking  care  that  the  last  act  shall  be  the  best. 

B.  This  is  indeed  the  mark  of  a  good  poet. 

A.  Moreover,  it  would  be  an  unpardonable  offense  if  anybody 
in  the  meantime  should  say  :  "Take  away  this  dish;  nobody 
cares  for  it."  You  must  sit  there  through  the  prescribed  time, 
which  they  measure,  I  suppose,  with  an  hour-glass.  At  last,  the 
bearded  fellow,  or  the  inn-keeper  himself,  who  differs  very  little 
from  the  servants  in  his  dress,  comes  in  and  asks  if  there  is  any- 
thing  wanted.     By   and   by  some   better    wine   is   brought   on. 


DESIDERIUS  ERASMUS.  6 1 

They  admire  most  him  who  drinks  most  ;  but  although  he  is  the 
greater  consumer  he  pays  no  more  than  he  who  drinks  least. 

B    A  curious  people,  indeed  ! 

A.  The  result  is  that  sometimes  there  are  those  who  consume 
twice  the  value  in  wine  of  what  they  pay  for  the  whole  meal.  But 
before  I  end  my  accouut  of  this  entertainment,  it  is  wonderful 
what  a  noise  and  confusion  of  voices  arises,  when  all  have  begun  to 
grow  warm  with  drink.  It  is  unnecessary  to  say  that  the  riot  is 
universal.  So-called  jesters  thrust  themselves  in  everywhere,  and 
although  there  is  no  kind  of  human  beings  more  despicable,  yet 
you  would  scarcely  believe  how  the  Germans  are  pleased  with 
them.  They  sing  and  prate,  shout,  dance  and  thump,  so  that  the 
stove  seems  ready  to  fall.  No  one  can  hear  another  speak.  But 
it  seems  to  please  them,  and  you  are  obliged  to  sit  there,  whether 
3'ou  will  or  not,  until  late  into  the  night. 

A.  Now  do  finally  finish  the  entertainment  ;  for  I  too  am  worn 
out  with  the  length  of  it. 

B.  Very  well.  When  at  last  the  cheese,  which  hardly  pleases 
them  unless  rotten  and  full  of  worms,  has  been  taken  away,  the 
bearded  fellow  comes  forth,  bearing  a  trencher  in  which  are  drawn 
with  chalk  some  circles  and  semi-circles,  and  lays  it  upon  the 
table,  so  silent,  meanwhile,  and  sad,  that  you  would  say  he  was 
some  Charon.  Then  they  who  comprehend  the  design  lay  down 
their  money,  then  another  and  still  another,  until  the  trencher  is 
filled.  Then  having  observed  who  has  contributed,  he  reckons 
it  up  silently  ;  and  if  nothing  is  wanting  he  nods  with  his  head. 

B.   What  if  there  should  be  something  over? 

A.  Perhaps  he  would  return  it.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  this 
sometimes  happens. 

B.  Does  nobody  ever  cry  out  against  the  reckoning  as  unjust? 

A.  Nobody  who  is  prudent.  For  he  would  hear  at  once  : 
"  What  sort  of  a  fellow  are  you  ?  You  are  paying  no  more  than 
the  others !" 

B.  This  is  certainly  a  frank  kind  of  people  you  are  telling  about. 

A.  And  if  anybody,  weary  with  his  journey,  asks  to  go  to  bed 
soon  after  supper,  he  is  ordered  to  wait  until  the  rest  also  go  to  bed. 

B.  I  seem  to  see  a  Platonic  city. 

A.  Then  each  is  shown  to  his  rest,  and  it  is  truly  nothing  more 
than  a  bed-chamber  ;  for  there  is  nothing  there  but  a  bed,  and 
nothing  else  that  you  can  use  or  steal. 


62  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

B.   Is  there  cleanliness  ? 

A.  Just  as  at  dinner;  linen  washed  six  months  ago,  perhaps. 

B.  In  the  meantime  what  had  become  of  the  horses? 

A.  The}'  were  treated  according  to  the  same  method  as  the  men. 

B.  But  do  you  get  the  same  accommodations  everywhere  ? 

A.  Sometimes  more  courteous,  sometimes  harsher  than  I  have 
told  you  ;  but  on  the  whole  it  is  as  I  have  said. 

B.  How  would  you  like  me  to  tell  you  how  guests  are  treated 
in  that  part  of  Italy  which  is  called  Lombardy,  or  in  Spain,  or  in 
England  and  in  Wales?  For  the  English  have  assimilated  in 
part  the  French  and  in  part  the  German  customs,  being  a  mix- 
ture of  these  two  nations.  The  Welsh  boast  that  they  are  the 
original  English. 

A.  I  should  like  you  to  tell  me,  for  I  never  had  occasion  to  see 
them. 

B.  At  present  I  have  not  time,  for  the  sailor  told  me  to  meet 
him  at  the  third  hour,  or  I  should  be  left  behind  ;  and  he  has  my 
baggage.  Some  other  time  we  shall  have  an  opportunity  of 
chatting  to  our  hearts'  content. 

ULRICH  VON  HUTTEN. 
Ulricli  von  Hutten  (14S8-1523)  was  born  in  the  castle  of  Steckelberg,  in 
Franconia,  of  the  knightly  class,  and  was  destined,  on  account  of  his  slight 
stature  and  delicate  health,  for  the  church.  He  broke  through  the  parental 
plans,  however,  and  gave  himself  to  a  life  of  literary  effort.  Von  Hutten's 
career  was  full  of  adventure  and  disorder,  and  lacked  purpose,  until  his  asso- 
ciation with  the  Reformers  turned  his  ardent  energies  into  a  distinct  channel. 
With  all  the  impetuosity  of  his  race  he  took  up  the  cudgels  against  the 
papacy.  Although  co-operating  with  Luther,  von  Hutten's  interests  were 
never  doctrinal,  but  economic  and  political.  He  looked  forward  to  a  united 
Germany,  in  which  the  emperor,  with  the  free  knights  at  his  back,  should 
sweep  away  the  territorial  barriers  to  his  power,  and  rid  the  land  of  the  Italian 
yoke  as  well.  Although  he  contributed  much  to  the  advancement  of  the  Luth- 
eran movement  in  its  early  and  critical  stage,  yet  it  was  well  for  him  and  for 
the  Reformers  that  he  passed  away  before  the  movement  came  to  be  defined. 
He  would  have  had  little  sympathy  with  its  doctrinal  tendencies,  or  with  that 
alliance  with  the  decentralizing  forces  in  the  empire,  which  alone  assured  its 
success. 

Inspicientes.1 

{Sol,  traversing  the  heavens  in  company  with  Phaeton,  his  son,  having 

1  (The  On-lookers.)  Ulrichi  Hutteni  equitis  Germani  opera.  Ed.  E. 
Bucking,  Vol.  IV.     Lips.     i860. 


ULRICH    VON     Hl'TTKX.  63 

finished  theitphill  journey,  employs  his  leisure  in  discussing  with  his  young 
companion  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  Germans,  over  whose  land  his 
chariot  is  now  passing.  Beneath  him  is  Augsburg,  where  the  diet  of  ijiS 
has  just  been  assembled,  whither  Caietano,  legate  of  pope  Leo  X.,  has  been 
sent  for  the  purpose  of  adjusting  a  trifling  controversy  which  has  lately 
broken  out  at  Wittenberg.  The  habitual  drunkenness  oj  the  Germans  has 
just  been  mentioned  with  regret  1 

Sol.  This  fault  is  inborn  with  them,  as  deceit  with  the  Italians, 
thievery  with  the  Spaniards,  pride  with  the  French,  and  other 
vices  with  other  peoples. 

Phaeton.  If  indeed  they  must  have  a  fault,  I  should  rather  they 
would  have  this  one  than  those  you  have  just  mentioned.  I  hope, 
however,  that  time,  which  mends  all  human  faults,  will  remove 
this  as  well.  But  let  us  turn  our  attention  again  to  the  Reichstag 
and  the  Pope's  legate,  for  he  (just  look,  father!)  is  moved  to 
anger  and  heated  with  rage.  Now  he  is  shouting  out  something 
to  us  from  his  place  in  the  procession;  and  I  really  believe  that  he 
is  angry  at  us  ;  for  he  is  looking  this  way. 

Sol.  Yes,  he  is  enraged  at  me.  Listen,  then,  to  what  the  little 
fellow  says,  as  with  wrinkled  brow  and  haughty  air  he  threatens 
me. 

Caietan.  Here,  you!  At  my  merest  suggestion,  not  to  speak  of 
my  command,  you  ought  to  shine  clearer  and  brighter  than  you 
have  been  doing! 

Sol.  What's  that  you  say,  legate?  What's  that  you  say?  Is 
this  the  way  you  talk  to  me  ? 

Caietan.  To  you!  As  though  you  did  not  know  you  were 
guilty  of  a  great  crime  ! 

Sol.  In  truth  I  do  not.  Tell  me  then,  what  evil  thing  have  I 
done  ? 

Caietan.  I'll  tell  you  then.  So  you  are  coining  out  a  little,  you 
rascal?  You  are  shedding  your  rays  upon  the  world  ?  You  who 
ought,  upon  my  slightest  hint  (let  alone  my  command)  to  shine 
clearer  and  brighter  than  you  do. 

Sol.   I  don't  see  yet,  what  evil  I  have  done. 

Caietan.  You  don't  see?  You  who  for  ten  whole  days  have 
shed  no  beam  of  your  brightness;  you  who  have  obstinately 
wrapped  yourself  in  clouds,  as  though  you  begrudged  the  world 
your  light. 

Sol.  That  is  the  fault  of  the  astrologers  and  star  gazers,  if  it  is 


64  SOURCE-BOOK    OF  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

anybody's  fault,  for  they  with  their  prognostications  have  ar- 
ranged that  I  should  not  shine  during  this  time. 

Caietan.  But  you  should  have  considered  what  would  be 
agreeable  to  a  legate  of  the  pope  rather  than  what  would 
please  the  star-gazers.  Don't  you  know  what  I  promised  you, 
when  I  left  Italy,  if  you  did  not  warm  up  the  German  lands, 
which  are  so  unseasonably  cold,  and  make  them  quite  summer- 
like for  me,  so  that  I  should  have  no  need  to  wish  myself  back 
in  Italy  ? 

Sol.  I  paid  no  attention  to  your  orders  ;  for  it  has  never  been 
my  opinion  that  mortal  man  could  command  the  sun. 

Caietan.  It  hasn't  been  your  opinion?  Perhaps  you  are  not 
aware  that  a  Roman  bishop  (who  has  in  this  instance  endowed 
me  with  all  his  powers)  has  the  power  to  bind  and  loose  whate'er 
he  will,  in  heaven  and  on  earth  ? 

Sol.  I  have  heard  of  it,  but  I  did  not  believe  that  wrhat  he 
claimed  was  true,  for  I  have  never  known  a  mortal  man  to  change 
anything  up  here. 

Caietan.  What  ?  You  do  not  believe  it  ?  Perverted  Christian 
that  you  are,  they  ought  to  put  you  under  the  ban  and  hand  you 
over  to  the  devil  for  a  heretic. 

Sol.  Would  you  cast  me  out  of  heaven  and  give  me  over  to  the 
devil,  and,  so  to  speak,  blot  the  sun  out  of  the  skies? 

Caietan.  Indeed  I  will  do  it,  if  you  do  not  quickly  confess  to 
one  of  my  secretaries  and  seek  absolution  from  me. 

Sol.  When  I  have  confessed,  what  will  you  do  with  me  then? 

Caietan.  I  shall  lay  a  penalty  upon  you,  that  you  may  hunger 
with  fastings,  or  perform  some  difficult  task,  or  tire  yourself  with 
pilgrimages,  or  give  alms,  or  contribute  something  toward  the 
Turkish  war,  or  give  money  for  an  indulgence,  wherewith  the 
cathedral  of  St.  Peter,  which  now  is  fallen  into  ruins  at  Rome, 
may  be  rebuilt ;  or  if  you  wish  to  save  your  money,  that  you  be 
scourged  with  rods  for  your  sins. 

Sol.  That  is  rather  severe.  What  will  you  do  with  me  after 
that? 

Caietan.  Then  I  wrill  absolve  you  and  make  you  clean. 

Sol.  Thus,  as  the  proverb  runs,  you  will  brighten  up  the  sun  ? 

Caietan.  Yes,  I  will  do  that,  if  it  please  me,  by  virtue  of  the 
powers  which  the  tenth  Leo  has  conferred  upon  me. 

Sol.   What  trickery  do  I  hear!     Do  you  mean  to  say,  that  any 


ULRICH    VON    HUTTEN.  65 

one,  even  amongst  mortals,  is  silly  enough  to  believe  you  have 
this  power?  Not  to  speak  of  the  sun,  that  has  oversight  upon 
all.  You  had  better  go  and  take  a  dose  of  hellebore;  for  it  seems 
to  me  you  are  losing  your  mind. 

Caietan.  "  Losing  my  mind!  "  You  are  de facto  under  the  ban; 
for  you  have  spoken  disrespectfully  to  the  Pope's  legate,  whereby 
you  have  fallen  into  great  and  intolerable  damnation.  Therefore 
will  I  shortly  proclaim  you  publicly  and  with  all  the  pomp  of  a 
great  assembly  under  the  ban,  because  you  have  angered  me. 

Phaeton.  Father,  I  should  scorn  this  arrogance.  What  may  a 
wretched  mortal  do  against  immortal  creatures  ? 

Sol.  Let  us  rather  treat  him  with  contempt.  He  is  indeed  to 
be  pitied,  for  he  has  gone  mad  through  illness. 

Phaeton.  What  sort  of  illness  ? 

Sol.  He  is  sick  with  greed.  Since  the  matter  which  he  has 
in  hand  in  Germany  will  not  come  his  way,  he  has  fallen  into 
a  rage  and  lost  his  mind  in  consequence.  But  I  am  disposed  to 
chaff  him  further.  What  say  you,  holy  father?  Would  you  con- 
demn me  unheard  and  guiltless  ? 

Caietan.  Just  as  I  have  said.  It  is  not  customary  to  permit  all 
those  to  have  a  hearing,  who  have  been  condemned  by  the  Pope 
and  his  legates. 

Sol.  That  would  be  wrong,  however,  if  anybody  but  you  should 
do  it.  But  be  gracious,  I  beseech  you,  and  forgive  me  my  sins 
just  this  once. 

Caietan.  Now  you  are  talking  properly;  for  whoever  will  not  be 
damned,  must  sue  for  grace.  Wherefore  I  command  you,  to  look 
out  for  me,  wherever  I  may  be  ;  and  now,  so  long  as  I  remain  in 
Germany,  to  make  good  weather,  and  by  virtue  of  your  heat  to 
banish  that  cold  which  tortures  me  yet  even  in  the  month  of  July. 

Sol.  Why  don't  you  put  the  cold  under  the  ban  ? 

Caietan.  That  is  worth  thinking  of;  but  you  attend  to  that 
which  I  command. 

Sol.  I  should  have  done  this  before,  but  I  thought  that  you 
were  engaged  in  some  secret  undertaking  which  you  did  not  wish 
these  ordinary  German  people  to  see.  Wherefore  I  feared  that  if 
I  should  shine  brightly,  and  display  these  secrets  of  yours  to  the 
eyes  of  the  people,  your  affairs  might  miscarry. 

Caietan.  How  could  you  show  my  secret  affairs  to  others,  when 
you  do  not  know  them  yourself? 
5 


66  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE    GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

Sol.  I  don't  know  them  ?  Do  you  think  I  don't  know  that  your 
present  wish  is  to  prevent  Charles  from  being  chosen  Roman 
King  in  accordance  with  the  desires  of  his  subjects?  That  you 
have  many  other  things  under  way,  in  which,  if  the  Germans 
knew,  they  would  no  longer  assist  you,  but  would  hate  you  with 
a  deadly  hatred. 

Caietan.  Let  them  hate  me,  for  they  must  fear  me  too.  I  have 
indeed  not  wished  to  have  you  disclose  such  things.  Moreover, 
if  3"OU  do  it,  you  are  under  the  ban. 

Sol.  What  a  t3'rant  you  are,  to  be  sure  ! 

Caietan.  Furthermore,  I  command  you  that  you  shall  direct 
your  arrow  and  shoot  pestilence  and  sudden  death  amongst  the 
Germans,  in  order  that  many  benefices  and  spiritual  fiefs  may  be- 
come vacant,  that  pensions  ma)'  accrue  and  money  flow  to  Rome, 
and  something  of  all  this  shall  be  mine.  For  it  is  now  a  long 
time  since  clerics  have  been  dying  frequently  enough  in  Ger- 
many.    Do  you  hear  what  I  tell  you  ? 

Sol.   Perfectly. 

Caietan.  But  first  of  all  shoot  at  the  bishops,  that  the  pallia 
may  be  bought.  Then  hit  the  provosts  and  the  wealthy  prelates, 
in  order  that  the  Pope's  new  creatures  may  have  wherewith  to 
live  ;  for  they  must  be  considered  each  according  to  his  rank,  in 
order  that  they  may  want  nothing. 

Sol.  In  order  that  I  may  bring  about  a  pestilence  it  will  be 
necessary  to  bring  on  clouds,  to  drop  a  mist  upon  the  earth  and 
darken  the  atmosphere  ;  wherefore  I  fear  that  this  bad  weather 
will  displease  you. 

Caietan.  Well,  I  prefer  that  the  pestilence  should  take  place,  so 
that  the  benefices  may  be  vacant.  So  far  as  the  atmosphere  is 
concerned,  darken  it  as  little  as  you  may  ;  but  if  you  cannot  avoid 
it,  do  what  is  best  and  most  useful. 

Phaeton.  O  miserable  rascal !  Now  for  the  first  time  I  perceive 
where  the  shoe  pinches,  what  pleases  and  displeases  him,  what 
makes  him  sad,  what,  joyful.  Let  the  stream  flow  to  his  desire, 
and  he  can  endure  all  kinds  of  air,  cold  and  bad  weather.  I  will 
address  him.  Listen,  wretched  man.  A  shepherd  should  pas- 
ture his  sheep,  not  murder  them. 

Caietan.  What  say  you,  church-thief?  What  say  you,  wicked 
driver?  You,  whom  I  shall  crush  and  crunch  in  a  moment  with 
m}'  curse.     Will  you  seek  to  hinder  my  affairs  ! 


LETTERS   OF   OBSCURE   MEN.  67 

Phaeton.  Indeed,  I  certainly  shall,  if  I  am  able.  For  why  do 
you  seek  to  kill  those  from  whom  you  are  forcing  money  in  every 
way  without  this  means? 

Caieta?i.  You  accursed  one,  you  malefactor,  you  condemned,  a 
son  of  Satan,  how  dare  you  yelp  against  me?  Is  it  wrong  that  a 
shepherd  should  shear  his  sheep  ? 

Phaeton.  That  he  should  shear  them  is  not  wrong;  for  the  good 
shepherds  do  that  as  well;  but  they  do  not  kill  and  flay  them. 
Tell  that  to  your  Pope  Leo,  and  say  to  him  as  well,  that  if  he 
does  not  send  henceforth  more  temperate  legates  into  Germany, 
he  will  some  day  see  a  conspiracy  of  the  sheep  against  an  unjust, 
harsh  and  bloodthirsty  shepherd,  and  they  will  perhaps  do  a  deed 
that  is  both  right  and  merited.  Already  indeed  they  sing  and 
talk  about  you,  and  it  is  my  opinion  that  they  will  no  longer 
tolerate  you,  not  even  if  you  should  send  wagons  full  of  excom- 
munications against  them  across  the  mountains. 

Caietan.  You  are  letting  out  a  thing  that  should  not  be  talked 
about.  Wherefore  be  you  excommunicated!  I  lay  this  punish- 
ment upon  you  for  the  discourteous,  thoughtless  talk  which  you 
have  addressed  to  me. 

Phaeton.  Then  I  leave  you,  an  object  of  derision  to  the  Ger- 
mans, whom  you  are  in  the  habit  of  plundering;  and  may  they 
drive  you  hence  with  ridicule  and  abuse,  even  handle  you 
roughly,  and  so  use  you,  that  you  may  be  an  example  to  pos- 
terity.    Scorn  be  upon  you!     Thus  I  punish  you. 

Sol.  Cease  with  your  scurrility;  it  is  time  to  guide  our  car  down 
the  slope  and  make  way  for  the  evening  star.  Let  him  lie,  cheat, 
steal,  rob  and  plunder  at  his  own  risk. 

Phaeton.  The  devil  fly  away  with  him!  Come,  then,  I  will 
prick  up  the  steeds  and  get  us  hence. 

J  act  a  est  alca. 

LETTERS  OE  OBSCURE  MEN.1 

Johannes  Pfefferkorn,  a  converted  Jew  of  Cologne,  desiring  to  give  evi- 
dence of  his  zeal  for  the  Christian  faith,  secured  from  the  emperor  Maxi- 
milian I.  an  order  which  called  for  the  suppression  and  destruction  of  all 
rabbinical  writings,  as  hostile  to  Christianity.  It  was  the  belief  of  German 
humanists  that  Pfefferkorn  was  nothing  more  than  the  instrument  of  the 
Dominicans  at  Cologne,  who  sought  in  this  manner  to  counteract  the  grow- 

1  Epistolae  obscurorum  virorum,  Ed.  Bucking,  Leipzig,  1S64,  passim. 


68  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE   GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

ing  interest  in  the  study  of  Hebrew.  The  archbishop  of  Mainz  suspended 
the  execution  of  the  order  until  the  matter  could  be  more  thoroughly  in- 
vestigated. Opinions  regarding  the  value  of  the  Hebrew  writings  were 
requested  from  several  universities,  from  Jacob  von  Hochstraten,  papal  in- 
quisitor at  Cologne,  and  from  Johann  Reuchlin.  Of  these,  Reuchlin  alone 
went  deeply  into  the  subject.  His  report  was  favorable  to  the  Hebrew  writ- 
ings as  a  whole,  excepting  certain  ones  which  dealt  in  witchcraft  or  were 
abusive  of  Christian  doctrine.  These  he  considered  worthy  of  extinction. 
In  general,  however,  he  was  unfavorable  to  this  method  of  combatting  error, 
and  suggested  the  foundation  in  each  university  of  a  chair  of  Hebrew,  for 
the  better  understanding  of  these  works.  Other  opinions  were  unfavorable, 
and  thus  Reuchlin  stood  alone  as  the  champion  of  Hebrew  lore  and  the 
defender,  in  this  particular,  of  the  claims  of  humanism. 

Pfefferkorn  continued  to  be  the  instrument  of  the  Cologne  party.  His 
Handspiegel,  which  he  sold,  with  his  wife's  help,  at  the  great  Frankfort  fair 
of  151 1,  was  a  violent  attack  upon  Reuchlin,  wTho  replied  in  the  Augen- 
spiegel,  which  in  turn  elicited  a  Brandspiegel  from  his  detractor.  The  con- 
troversy was  seasoned  on  both  sides  with  the  violent  abuse  of  the  time.  The 
faculty  of  Cologne  condemned  the  Angenspicgel  as  heretical  in  1513.  The 
University  of  Paris  followed  in  1514.  Reuchlin  was  cited  before  the  tribunal 
of  the  inquisition,  and  although  his  case  was  transferred  to  the  curia,  his 
book  was  publicly  burned.  A  commission  appointed  by  Leo  X.  sat  at 
Speier  and  declared  Reuchlin  free  of  heresy,  adjudging  the  costs  to  Hoch- 
straten, whereupon  the  inquisitor  proceeded  to  Rome,  well  supplied  with 
funds,  and  secured  a  reversal  of  the  decision.  A  protest  of  Reuchlin  sus- 
pended execution,  and  the  matter  drifted  on  in  the  curia  without  result. 

But  the  case,  if  silenced  in  the  ecclesiastical  courts,  was  taken  up  before 
the  bar  of  public  opinion.  Reuchlin,  feeling  the  need  of  public  rehabilita- 
tion, published  in  1514  a  book  containing  a  selection  of  letters  of  sympathy 
addressed  to  him  by  men  of  note  in  the  world  of  humanism.  This  was  the 
Clarorum  virorum  epistolae  etc.  The  title  proved  a  source  of  inspiration  for 
certain  waggish  scholars,  humanists,  and  partisans  of  Reuchlin,  whose 
identity  even  at  this  time  is  imperfectly  known.  In  15 15  appeared  at  Hagenau 
the  first  series  of  letters,  known  as  the  Epistolae  virorum  obscurorum. 
The  letters  are  addressed  for  the  most  part  to  Ortuin  Gratius,  a  distinguished 
member  of  the  faculty  at  Cologne,  a  man  of  high  attainments  and  of  ability 
as  an  author.  The  writers  of  the  letters  are  supposed  to  be  clergymen,  at 
Rome  and  elsewhere,  who  seek  or  desire  to  impart  information  regarding 
the  Reuchlin  affair,  or  who  appeal  to  Gratius  to  settle  some  point  of  dispute. 
The  general  effort  of  the  letters  is  to  expose  the  ignorance  and  baseness  of 
the  clergy  and  to  throw  ridicule  upon  the  rank  and  file  of  the  Cologne  party. 
It  is  a  part  of  the  internal  protest  against  the  bigotry  and  shortcomings  of 
the  clergy,  a  protest  that  became  schismatic  only  under  the  lead  of  Luther. 
The  letters  are  supposed  to  be  the  work  of  half  a  dozen  men;  but  among 
them  the  most  prominent  are  Crotus  Rubeanus  (1480-1540)  and  Ulrich  von 
Hutten. 


LETTERS   OF  OBSCURE   MEN.  69 

MASTER  JOHANNES   PELUFEX   PRESENTS   HIS  GREETING  TO   MASTER 
ORTUIN   GRATIUS. 

Friendly  greeting  and  endless  service,  most  worthy  Master! 
Since,  as  Aristotle  says  in  the  Categories,  it  is  not  wholly  useless 
in  certain  cases  to  give  way  to  doubt,  I  will  confess  that  a  certain 
thing  is  lying  heavily  on  my  conscience.  Not  long  ago  I  was  at 
the  Frankfort  fair,  and,  while  walking  along  the  street  toward 
the  market  with  a  bachelor,  we  met  two  men  who,  to  all  appear- 
ances, were  quite  respectable;  they  wore  black  cloaks  and  great 
hoods  with  tassels  hanging  down  behind.  God  is  my  witness 
that  I  believed  they  were  two  masters,  and  I  greeted  them,  there- 
fore, with  reverence.  Then  the  bachelor  slapped  me  on  the  back 
and  said:  "For  the  love  of  God,  what  are  you  doing?  They 
are  Jews,  and  you  have  taken  off  your  hat  to  them  I"  At  this 
such  a  fright  seized  me  as  if  I  had  seen  the  devil,  and  I  answered: 
"Sir  Baccalaureus,  God  have  mercy  upon  me.  I  have  done  it  in 
ignorance;  so  what  do  you  think;  is  that  a  grievous  sin?"  Then 
at  first  he  said:  "  According  to  my  view  it  is  a  mortal  sin,  since  it 
comes  under  the  head  of  idolatry,  and  therefore  violates  the  first 
of  the  ten  commandments,  which  saj-s,  '  I  believe  in  one  God;' 
because,  if  any  one  honors  a  Jew  or  a  heathen  as  if  he  were  a 
Christian,  he  acts  against  Christendom,  and  puts  himself  in  the 
position  of  a  Jew  or  heathen,  and  then  the  Jews  and  heathen  say: 
'  See  how  we  are  progressing,  since  the  Christians  honor  us;  for 
if  we  were  not  progressing,  surely  they  would  not  honor  us;1  and 
in  this  way  they  are  strengthened  in  their  evil  ways,  despise  the 
Christian  faith  and  refuse  baptism."  Upon  this  I  answered: 
"  That  is  very  true,  if  the  thing  be  done  knowingly,  but  I  have 
done  it  unknowingly,  and  ignorance  excuses  sin;  for  had  I  known 
that  they  were  Jews,  and  then  had  shown  them  respect,  then  I 
should  have  deserved  the  gallows,  because  that  would  be  a  heresy. 
But  neither  by  word  nor  deed— God  knows — had  I  any  knowledge 
whatsoever,  for  I  believed  they  were  two  masters."  Then  he 
answered:  "It  is  nevertheless  a  sin,"  and  related  the  following: 
"  I  too  went  once  through  a  church,  where  a  Jew,  made  of  wood, 
with  a  hammer  in  his  hand,  stood  before  our  Saviour.  I  believed, 
however,  that  it  was  St.  Peter,  and  that  he  had  the  key  in  his 
hand;  so  I  bent  my  knee  and  took  off  my  cap.  Then  for  the  fust 
time  I  saw  that  it  was  a  Jew,  and  this  made  me  very  sad  and  re- 
pentant.    But  at  confession,  which  I  made  in  the  Dominican  con- 


70  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE   GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

vent,  my  father  confessor  told  me  that  it  was  a  mortal  sin,  since 
you  must  be  on  your  guard.  He  would  not  have  been  able  to 
give  me  absolution  if  he  had  not  had  episcopal  powers,  for  it  was 
a  case  reserved  to  the  bishop;  he  also  added  that  if  I  had  done  it 
intentionally,  it  would  have  been  a  case  for  the  pope.  So  I  was 
absolved  because  he  had  episcopal  powers.  And,  really,  I  believe 
that  if  you  would  keep  your  conscience  clear,  you  must  confess  to 
the  officer  of  the  consistory.  Ignorance  cannot  excuse  your  sin, 
for  you  should  have  taken  care.  The  Jews  have  always  a  yellow 
ring  on  the  front  of  their  cloaks,  which  you  certainly  ought  to 
have  seen,  for  I  saw  it;  so  it  is  gross  ignorance  on  your  part, 
and  cannot  effect  forgiveness  of  sins. ' '  Thus  reasoned  in  my  case 
this  bachelor.  But,  since  you  are  a  deeply-read  theologian,  I 
want  to  ask  you  earnestly  and  humbly  that  you  will  solve  the 
above  question  for  me,  and  write  me  whether  it  is  a  question  here 
of  a  mortal  or  venial  sin;  whether  it  is  a  simple  case,  or  an  epis- 
copal, or  a  papal  reserved  case.  Also  write  me  whether,  according 
to  your  view,  the  citizens  of  Frankfort  do  right  that  they  permit, 
in  this  wise,  Jews  to  go  about  in  the  garb  of  our  masters.  It 
seems  to  me  that  it  is  not  right,  and  likely  to  arouse  great  bitter- 
ness, that  there  should  be  no  distinction  between  the  Jews  and 
our  masters;  also,  it  is  a  mockery  of  the  sacred  theology,  and  the 
most  excellent  Emperor  and  lord  ought  not  to  permit  that  a  Jew, 
who  is  at  the  best  only  a  dog  and  an  enemy  of  Christ,  should  go 
about  like  a  doctor  of  the  sacred  theology.  I  also  send  you  a 
composition  of  Master  Bernhard  Plumilegus  (in  common  lan- 
guage, Federleser),  which  he  has  sent  to  me  from  Wittenberg. 
You  know  him,  for  he  was  your  fellow  scholar  at  Deventer.  He 
told  me  that  you  had  jolly  times  together;  he  is  a  good  fellow  and 
cannot  praise  you  enough.  Then  farewell,  in  the  Lord's  name. 
Given  at  Leipzig. 

NICOI.AUS   CAPRIMULGIUS,  BACCALAUREUS,  TO   MASTER   ORTUIN   GRATIUS. 

Many  greetings,  with  deep  respect  to  your  excellence,  as  is  my 
duty  in  writing  to  your  Mastership.  Most  worthy  Master,  you 
must  know  that  -there  is  a  most  important  question,  in  regard  to 
which  I  desire  and  beseech  a  decision  from  your  Mastership. 
There  is  here  a  certain  Greek  who,  when  he  writes  Greek,  always 
puts  accents  over  the  words.  Recently  I  had  occasion  to  say: 
"  Master  Ortuin,  from  Deventer,  also  dealt  with  Greek  grammar, 


LETTERS    OF   OBSCURE   MEN.  7 1 

and  understood  it  quite  as  well  as  this  man,  and  he  never  wrote 
the  accents,  and  I  know  that  he  understood  what  he  was  doing 
quite  as  well  as  this  man,  and  could  have  excelled  the  Greek  if 
he  had  desired."  But  the  others  would  not  believe  me,  and  my 
comrades  and  colleagues  besought  me  to  write  your  lordship  that 
you  might  instruct  me  as  to  how  it  ought  to  be,  whether  you 
ought  to  put  the  accents  there  or  not.  If  not,  then  we  will  make 
it  so  hot  for  the  Greek  that  he  will  feel  it,  and  we  will  bring  it 
about  that  he  shall  have  few  listeners.  I  remember  to  have  seen, 
when  I  was  with  you  in  Cologne  at  the  house  of  Heinrich 
Quentel,  where  you  were  proof-reader  and  had  to  correct  Greek, 
that  you  drew  your  pen  through  all  accents  that  stood  above  the 
letters,  with  these  words:  "What  is  this  foolishness?"  And  so 
it  occurred  to  me  that  you  had  some  reason  for  this,  otherwise 
you  would  not  have  done  it.  You  are  a  marvellous  man,  and 
God  has  imparted  to  you  the  great  grace  to  know  something  of 
everything  knowable.  Therefore,  you  must  give  thanks  to  God 
the  Lord,  to  the  blessed  Virgin  and  to  all  God's  saints  in  your 
poetry.  Take  it  not  evil  of  me  that  I  trouble  your  excellence 
with  questions  of  this  nature,  since  I  do  it  for  my  instruction. 
Farewell.     Leipzig. 

MASTER  JOHANNES   HIPP  TO    MASTER   ORTUIN   GRATIUS,    GREETING. 

"Rejoice  in  the  Lord,  O  ye  just:  praise  becometh  the  up- 
right" (Psalms  xxxii.  n).  In  order  that  you  may  not  say  in 
anger,  "What  does  he  want  with  his  quotation?"  you  must 
hasten  to  read  a  piece  of  joyful  news,  which  will  wonderfully  re- 
joice your  excellence  and  which  I  will  briefly  relate.  There  was 
here  a  poet,  by  name  Johannes  Sommerfeld;  he  was  very  arro- 
gant, looked  down  upon  masters  of  arts  and  made  little  of  them 
in  his  lectures,  saying  that  they  were  ignorant,  that  one  poet  was 
worth  ten  masters,  and  that  in  processions  it  was  proper  that 
poets  should  have  precedence  over  masters  and  licentiates.  He 
lectured  on  Pliny  and  other  authors,  and  expressed  himself  to  the 
effect  that  the  masters  of  arts  were  not  masters  of  the  seven 
liberal  arts,  but  rather  of  the  seven  deadly  sins;  that  they  stood 
upon  no  good  foundation,  since  they  were  not  learned  in  poetics, 
but  knew  only  Petrus  Ilispanus  and  the  Parva  logicalia.  He  had 
many  listeners,  and  among  them  noble  bursars,  and  he  said  there 
was  nothing  in  the  Scotists  and  the  Thomists,  and  made  sport  of 


72  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE    GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

the  holy  teachers.  The  masters  waited  for  convenient  opportunity 
to  avenge  themselves,  with  the  help  of  God,  and  it  was  the  divine 
will  that  he  held  a  discourse  wherein  he  scored  masters,  doctors, 
licentiates  and  bachelors,  praised  his  own  branch  and  spoke 
slightingly  of  the  hoi)'  theology.  In  this  manner  he  aroused 
great  anger  on  the  part  of  the  gentlemen  of  the  faculty.  The 
masters  and  doctors  took  counsel  and  said:  "  \Vhat  shall  we  do? 
This  man  is  behaving  in  a  shocking  manner;  if  we  let  him  go  on 
in  this  way  the  world  will  believe  he  is  more  learned  than  we. 
Let  not  these  upstarts  come  and  say  they  are  of  more  importance 
than  their  elders,  and  in  this  way  bring  shame  and  ridicule  upon 
our  university."  Then  said  Master  Andreas  Delitzsch,  who, 
moreover,  is  a  good  poet,  that  it  seemed  to  him  that  Sommerfeld 
was,  in  respect  to  the  university,  somewhat  like  the  fifth  wheel  to 
a  wagon,  because  he  stood  in  the  way  of  the  other  faculties,  by 
whose  aid  the  academic  youth  might  be  suitably  prepared  for 
graduation.  The  other  masters  swore  that  this  was  so,  and  the 
result  was  that  the}^  came  to  the  conclusion  that  this  poet  should 
be  expelled,  or,  at  least,  shut  out,  even  if  thereby  they  should 
draw  upon  themselves  his  enmity.  They  summoned  him  before 
the  rector,  and  posted  the  summons  on  the  church  doors;  he  ap- 
peared with  counsel,  demanded  the  privilege  of  defending  himself, 
and  was  accompanied  with  other  friends,  who  stood  by  him. 
The  masters  demanded  that  these  should  retire,  otherwise  they 
would  be  forsworn  if  the}-  appeared  against  the  university.  In- 
deed, the  masters  showed  themselves  full  of  courage  in  this 
struggle;  they  remained  firm,  and  vowed  that  in  the  interests  of 
justice  they  would  spare  no  one.  Certain  jurists  and  courtiers 
plead  for  him.  To  these  the  masters  replied  that  it  was  not  pos- 
sible; they  had  their  statutes,  and  according  to  these  statutes  he 
must  be  dismissed.  What  was  remarkable  is,  that  the  prince 
himself  (Duke  George)  interceded  for  him.  It  did  no  good,  how- 
ever, for  they  said  to  the  Duke  that  it  was  his  duty  to  uphold  the 
statutes  of  the  university,  for  the  statutes  are  to  the  university 
what  the  binding  is  to  a  book;  were  there  no  binding,  then  the 
leaves  would  fall  apart,  and  were  there  no  statutes  there  would  be 
no  order  in  the  university;  dissension  would  reign  amongst  its 
members  and  result  in  complete  chaos.  Therefore,  the  prince 
must  look  out  for  the  best  interests  of  the  university,  as  his  father 
had  done  before  him.     In  this  wise  the  prince  allowed  himself  to 


LETTERS   OF  OBSCURE   MEN.  73 

be  persuaded,  and  declared  he  could  not  stand  out  against  the 
university,  and  that  it  was  better  for  one  to  be  dismissed  than 
that  the  whole  university  should  suffer.  The  masters  were  much 
pleased  with  this,  and  said:  "  My  lord  Duke,  God  be  thanked  for 
your  wise  decision."  Then  the  rector  caused  an  order  to  be 
posted  upon  the  church  doors,  to  the  effect  that  Sommerfeld  was 
retired  for  ten  years.  His  auditors,  however,  expressed  them- 
selves variously  in  the  matter,  and  said  that  the  members  of  the 
council  had  done  wrong  toward  Sommerfeld;  but  these  gentlemen 
replied  in  turn  that  they  did  not  care  a  penny's  worth.  Certain 
bursars  expressed  themselves  to  the  effect  that  Sommerfeld  would 
revenge  himself  for  the  insult  and  would  summon  the  university 
before  the  Roman  curia.  Then  the  masters  laughed  and  said: 
"Nonsense;  what  would  the  fellow  accomplish?"  And  know 
that  great  harmony  now  reigns  in  the  university,  and  Master 
Delitzsch  lectures  on  the  humanities,  and  also  the  master  from 
Rothenburg,  who  has  written  a  book  quite  three  times  as  large  as 
Virgil's  complete  works.  He  has  gotten  together  much  of  value 
in  this  book  in  defence  of  our  holy  mother  church  and  in  praise  of 
the  saints;  he  has  recommended  especially  our  university,  both 
the  sacred  theology  and  the  humanistic  faculty,  and  he  blames 
those  worldly  and  heathen  poets.  The  masters  also  say  that  his 
poems  are  as  good  as  the  poems  of  Virgil,  and  are  without  errors; 
for  he  perfectly  understands  the  art  of  writing  verse  and  has  been 
a  good  versifier  for  the  past  twenty  years.  Wherefore,  the  gentle- 
men of  the  council  gave  him  permission  to  lecture  on  this  book 
instead  of  on  Terence,  for  it  is  more  valuable  than  Terence,  and 
inculcates  good  Christian  doctrine,  and  does  not  deal  with  ha 
and  scalawags,  like  Terence.  You  must  spread  this  news  in  your 
university,  and  perhaps  it  will  happen  to  Busch  as  it  has  hap- 
pened to  Sommerfeld.  When  are  you  going  to  send  me  your 
book  against  Reuchlin  ?  You  often  mention  it,  but  nothing  has 
come  to  me  yet.  You  have  written  me  you  would  be  sure  to  send 
it,  but  you  have  not  done  so.  May  God  forgive  you,  since  you 
do  not  love  me  as  I  love  you,  for  you  are  to  me  as  my  own  lie  art. 
But  send  it  to  me,  for  "  I  have  greatly  desired  to  eat  this  Paschal 
lamb  with  you  " — that  is  to  say,  to  read  this  book.  Also  write 
me  the  news,  and  compose  an  essay  or  a  tew  verses  to  my  honor, 
if  I  be  worth  the  trouble.  Fare  you  well  in  Christ  the  I.ord  our 
God,  from  everlasting  unto  everlasting!     Amen. 


74  SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE   GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

BROTHER   SIMON   WURST,    DOCTOR   OF   SACRED    THEOLOGY,    TO    MASTER 
ORTUIN   GRATIUS,    GREETING. 

Since  the  defence  of  Johannes  Pfefferkorn  "against  the  calum- 
nies, etc.,"  which  he  composed  in  Latin  has  been  received  here,  we 
have  had  something  new  every  day.     One  says  this,  another  that; 
one  is  for  him,  another  for  Reuchlin;  one  defends,  another  con- 
demns him;  it  is  a  desperate  struggle,  and  they  are  angry  enough 
to  come  to  blows.     If  I  should  relate  to  you  all  the  feuds  that 
have  arisen  out  of  this  book,  the  period  of  an  Olympiad  would 
not  suffice,  so  I  will  merely  make  a  few  remarks  by  the  way. 
The  majority,   and  for  the  most  part  the  wrorldly  masters,   the 
presbyters  and  brethren  of  the  Minorites  assert  that  Pfefferkorn 
could  not  possibly  be  the  author  of  the  book,  for  he  has  never 
learned  a  word  of  Latin.     I  replied  that  this  objection  had  no 
force,  although  it  has  been  urged  against  many  prominent  men  to 
this  very  day,  but  unjustly;  for  Johannes  Pfefferkorn,  who  always 
carries  pen  and  ink  with  him,  could  write  down  what  he  hears, 
whether  it  be  in  public  lectures,  or  in  private  assemblies,  or  when 
students  or  brethren  from  the  Dominican  order  come  to  his  house, 
or  when  he  goes  to  the  bath.     Holy  Lord,  how  many  sermons 
must  he  have  heard  during  twelve  years!  How  many  admonitions! 
How  many  quotations  from  the  hoi}7  fathers!     These  he  might  re- 
tain in  his  memory,  or  he  might  communicate  them  to  his  wife,  or 
write  them  on  the  wall,  or  enter  them  in  his  diary.     In  the  same 
way  I  called  attention  briefly  to  the  fact  that  Johannes  Pfefferkorn 
says  of  himself — not  with  boasting — that  he  can  apply  to  any 
theme,  be  it  good  or  evil,  everything  that  is  contained  in  the 
Bible,  or  in  the  Holy  Scriptures,  either  in  Hebrew  or  in  German; 
and  he  knows  by  heart  all  the  evangels  that  are  expounded  the 
wdiole  year  through,  and  can  say  them  off  to  a  letter,  a  thing 
which  those  jurists  and  poets  cannot  do.     Moreover,  he  has  a 
son,  Lorenz  by  name,  a  really  talented  young  man,  who  is  pale  as 
a  ghost  from  nothing  but  study;  and,  indeed,  I  wonder  that  his 
father  allows  him  to  pursue  his  studies  with  those  devilish  poets. 
This  son  collects  for  his  father  sentences  from  the  orators  and 
poets  upon  every  possible  subject,  as  well  those  which  he  himself 
uses  as  those  used  by  his  teachers,  and  he  also  knows  how  to  cite 
his  Hugh.     And  thus  Johannes  Pfefferkorn  has  come  to  know 
much  by  means  of  this  talented  youth;  and  what  he,  as  an  un- 
learned man,  is  not  able  to  accomplish  of  himself,  his  son  does 


LETTERS   OF   OBSCURE    MEN.  75 

for  him.  Therefore,  woe  to  all  those  who  have  spread  abroad  the 
false  report  that  he  did  not  himself  write  his  books,  but  that  the 
doctors  and  masters  in  Cologne  are  the  true  authors!  Johannes 
Reuchlin  has  reason  to  blush  and  to  sigh  to  eternity  for  having 
said  that  Johannes  Pfefferkorn  did  not  himself  compose  his 
"  Handspiegel"  whereby  it  has  been  contended  amongst  learned 
men  that  three  men  furnished  him  with  the  authorities  which  he 
cited.  Whereupon  a  certain  one  said:  "Who  are  those  men?" 
I  answered:  "I  do  not  know.  I  believe,  however,  that  they  are 
the  same  three  men  who  appeared  to  Abraham,  as  we  read  in  the 
first  book  of  Moses."  And  when  I  had  spoken  they  laughed  at 
me  and  treated  me  as  if  I  were  a  simpleton.  I  wish  the  devil 
would  strike  them  with  a  plague,  as  is  written  in  the  book  of  Job, 
which  we  are  now  reading  at  table  in  our  monastery.  Say,  then, 
to  Johannes  Pfefferkorn,  he  must  have  patience,  for  I  hope  that 
God  will  work  a  miracle;  and  greet  him  in  my  name.  Also  greet 
for  me  his  wife,  since  you  know  her  well,  but  secretly.  Farewell. 
Written  in  haste  and  without  much  reflection,  at  Antwerp. 

MASTER   BERTHOLD   HACKERLING   TO   MASTER   ORTUIN   GRATIUS. 

Brotherly  love  in  the  place  of  greeting,  honored  sir!  When  I 
left  you  I  promised  that  I  would  keep  you  informed  of  all  newrs, 
and  let  you  know  how  I  am  getting  along.  Know,  then,  that  I 
have  been  two  months  in  the  city  of  Rome  and  have  as  yet 
secured  no  patron.  An  assessor  of  the  Roman  curia  was  disposed 
to  take  me.  I  was  quite  delighted,  and  said:  "  It  is  well,  sir,  but 
will  your  magnificence  kindly  tell  me  what  I  shall  have  to  do." 
He  answered  that  I  would  be  an  hostler,  and  my  duty  would  be  to 
take  care  of  a  mule,  to  feed  and  water  it,  curry  and  rub  it  down, 
and  have  it  in  readiness  when  he  wished  to  ride  forth,  with  bridle, 
saddle  and  everything.  Then  I  must  run  beside  the  mule  to  the* 
court-room  and  back  home  again.  I  told  him  that  such  work  was 
not  for  me;  that  I  was  a  master  of  the  liberal  arts  in  Cologne,  and 
could  do  nothing  of  the  sort.  He  answered:  "  Well,  if  you  don't 
want  to  do  it,  it's  your  own  less."  And  so  I  believe  I  will  go 
back  home.  I  certainly  will  not  curry  a  mule  or  clean  out  stables. 
I  had  rather  the  devil  would  fly  away  with  his  mule,  stable  and 
all!  And  I  believe,  too,  that  it  would  be  against  the  statutes  of 
our  university;  for  a  master  must  conduct  himself  like  a  master. 
And  it  would  be  a  great  disgrace  to  the  university  if  a  Cologne 


76  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE    GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

master  should  do  such  a  thing.  For  the  honor  of  the  university 
I  shall  return  home.  And,  anyway,  I  do  not  like  Rome;  the 
people  in  the  chancellery  and  in  the  curia  are  so  haughty;  you 
would  not  believe  it.  One  of  them  said  to  me  yesterday,  he 
would  spit  upon  Cologne  masters.  I  told  him  I  hoped  he  might 
have  a  chance  to  spit  on  the  gallows.  Then  he  said  he  too  was  a 
master,  that  is  to  say  a  master  of  the  curia,  and  that  a  master  of 
the  curia  stood  high  above  a  master  of  the  liberal  arts  from  Ger- 
many. I  answered:  "Impossible;"  and  said,  moreover,  "You 
mean  to  say  you  are  as  good  as  I,  when  }rou  have  passed  no  ex- 
amination, as  I  have,  in  which  five  masters  have  tested  me  thor- 
oughly ?  You  are  a  master  made  with  a  seal."  Upon  this  he 
began  to  dispute  with  me,  and  said:  "  What  is  a  master?"  I  an- 
swered: "  A  person  of  proved  ability,  regularly  promoted  and 
graduated  in  the  seven  liberal  arts,  after  he  has  passed  the 
master's  examination  ;  who  has  the  right  to  wear  a  gold  ring,  and 
a  silken  band  on  his  gown,  and  who  bears  himself  toward  his 
pupils  as  a  king  toward  his  subjects.  And  magister  is  used  in 
four  senses:  In  one  sense  it  is  derived  from  magis  and  ter,  because 
a  master  knows  three  times  as  much  as  an  ordinary  person.  In 
the  second  sense  from  magis  and  terreo,  because  a  master  excites 
terror  when  his  pupils  look  upon  him.  In  the  third  sense  from 
magis  and  iheron  (that  is,  status),  because  the  master  in  his  posi- 
tion must  be  higher  than  his  pupils.  In  the  fourth  sense  from 
magis  and  sedere,  because  the  master  must  sit  far  higher  than  any 
one  of  his  pupils."  Then  he  asked  me:  "Who  is  your  author- 
ity?" I  answered  that  I  had  read  it  in  the  Vade  mecuvi.  At 
once  he  was  disposed  to  blame  the  book,  and  said  that  it  was  no 
reliable  source.  I  answered:  "  You  discredit  those  ancients,  and 
yet  you  do  not  know  any  better.  I  have  never  heard  any  one  in 
Cologne  discredit  this  book.  Are  you  not  ashamed  of  yourself  ?" 
And  in  great  anger  I  left  him.  And  once  more  I  tell  you  that  I 
am  disposed  to  return  to  German}-,  for  there  the  masters  are 
gentlemen,  and  rightly  so.  This  I  can  show  from  the  gospels, 
for  Christ  called  Himself  "  Master  "  and  not  "  Doctor"  when  He 
said,  "Ye  call  me  Lord  and  Master,  and  ye  do  well,  for  such 
am  I."  But  I  cannot  write  further,  for  I  have  no  more  paper, 
and  it  is  far  to  the  Campo  Fiore.  Farewell!  Written  at  the 
Roman  curia. 


LETTERS   OF  OBSCURE   MEN.  77 

MASTER     CONRADUS     UNCKEBUNCK     TO     MASTER    ORTUIN    GRATIUS,     MANY 

GREETINGS. 

"A  mouth  have  they  and  speak  not;  eyes  have  they  and  see 
not;  ears  have  they  and  hear  not,"  says  the  Psalmist.  These 
words  may  serve  as  introduction  and  as  text  for  what  I  am  about 
to  say.  Master  Ortuin  has  a  mouth  and  speaks  not;  not  even  so 
much  as  to  say  to  a  servant  of  the  curia  on  his  way  to  Rome: 
"  Give  my  regards  to  Conrad  Unckebunck."  Eyes  lias  he  also 
and  sees  not:  for  I  have  written  him  many  letters  and  he  has  not 
answered  me,  as  if  he  read  them  not,  or  merely  glanced  at  them. 
In  the  third  place  he  has  ears  and  hears  not:  for  I  have  asked 
several  friends  to  greet  him  when  they  came  where  he  was;  but 
he  has  heard  none  of  my  greetings,  for  he  has  not  answered  them. 
In  this  you  clearly  do  wrong,  for  I  am  fond  of  you  and  yon  ought 
to  be  fond  of  me  in  return;  but  you  are  not,  for  you  do  not  write 
me.  I  should  be  so  glad  if  you  would  write  me,  for  when  I  read 
your  letters  my  inmost  heart  rejoices.  I  have  heard,  however, 
that  you  have  few  hearers,  and  that  your  complaint  is  that  Busch 
and  Caesarius  have  drawn  the  scholars  away  from  you;  and  yet 
they  do  not  understand  how  to  expound  the  poets  allegorically,  as 
you  do,  nor  how  to  quote  the  holy  writ.  I  believe  the  devil  is  in 
those  poets.  They  are  the  ruin  of  all  universities.  I  heard  a 
Leipzig  master,  who  has  been  a  master  for  thirty-six  3'ears,  say 
that  in  his  younger  days  that  university  was  in  a  flourishing  con- 
dition, because  there  was  no  poet  for  twenty  miles  round  about. 
And  he  also  said  that  the  students  diligently  prepared  their 
lessons,  as  well  the  general  as  the  professional,  and  it  was  reck- 
oned a  great  disgrace  if  a  student  went  through  the  streets  with- 
out his  Petrus  Hispanus  or  the  Parva  logicalia  under  his  arm;  and 
if  they  were  students  of  grammar  they  carried  the  Partes  of  Alex- 
ander, or  the  Vade  vwcum,  or  the  Exercitium  puerorum,  or  the 
Opus  minus,  or  the  Dicta  of  Johannes  Sintheu.  Moreover,  in  the 
schools  they  gave  attention  and  held  the  masters  of  arts  in  honor, 
and  when  they  saw  a  master  they  were  as  frightened  as  if  they 
had  seen  the  devil.  And  he  said  that  the  bachelor's  degree  was 
conferred  four  times  a  year,  and  that  on  each  occasion  sixty,  or 
at  least  fifty,  degrees  were  given.  At  that  time  the  university 
was  flourishing;  if  any  cue  passed  in  half  the  subjects  of  a  year's 
course  he  received  the  bachelor's  degree,  and  if  he  passed  in  half 
the  subjects  for  three  years,   a  master's  degree;    the  result  was 


78  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

that  their  parents  were  satisfied  and  willing  to  spend  their  money, 
for  they  saw  that  their  sons  were  attaining  to  honors.  But  now 
students  wished  to  hear  Virgil  and  Pliny  and  other  new-fangled 
authors,  and  when  they  have  listened  for  five  years,  even  then 
they  are  not  graduated;  and  when  they  go  back  home  their  par- 
ents ask:  "What  are  3'ou?"  and  they  reply  that  they  are  nothing, 
but  that  they  have  studied  poetry.  But  their  parents  do  not 
know  what  that  is;  and  when  they  see  that  they  are  not  gram- 
marians, they  are  dissatisfied  with  the  university  and  regret  hav- 
ing spent  their  money.  And  they  say  to  others  later  on:  "Do 
not  send  your  boys  to  the  university,  because  they  study  nothing, 
but  hang  about  the  streets  by  night,  and  the  money  is  wasted 
which  is  given  for  study."  And  this  master  told  me  further,  that 
in  his  time  there  were  quite  two  thousand  students  in  Leipzig  and 
as  man}'  at  Erfurt,  and  at  Vienna  four  thousand  and  as  many  at 
Cologne,  and  so  on  at  the  other  universities.  But  now  at  all  the 
universities  together  there  are  not  as  many  students  as  formerly 
at  one  or  two.  The  Leipzig  masters  bewail  the  lack  of  students, 
for  the  poets  have  done  them  this  injury.  When  parents  send 
their  sons  to  the  bursaries  and  colleges  they  are  unwilling  to  re- 
main there,  but  go  to  the  poets  and  study  worthless  stuff.  He 
told  me  also  that  he  himself  formerly  had  forty  pupils  at  Leipzig, 
and  when  he  went  to  church,  or  to  market,  or  to  stroll  in  the 
Rosengarten,  they  marched  along  behind  him.  It  was  then  a 
serious  offense  to  study  poetry;  and  when  any  one  acknowledged 
in  the  confessional  that  he  had  secretly  heard  a  bachelor  expound 
Virgil,  the  priest  imposed  a  severe  penalty  upon  him,  causing 
him  to  fast  every  Friday  or  to  repeat  each  day  seven  penitential 
psalms.  And  he  swore  to  me  upon  his  conscience  that  a  candi- 
date for  the  master's  degree  had  been  turned  down  because  one 
of  the  examiners  had  once  seen  him,  on  a  holiday,  reading  Ter- 
ence. If  such  conditions  obtained  nowadays  in  the  universities, 
I  should  not  be  slaving  here  in  the  curia.  But  what  can  we  do 
at  the  universities?  There  is  nothing  to  be  made.  The  bursars 
are  no  longer  willing  to  stay  in  the  bursaries  or  under  the  masters, 
and  among  twenty  students  scarcely  one  has  any  intention  of 
studying  for  a  degree;  but  all  wish  to  study  the  humanities. 
And  when  a  master  lectures,  he  has  no  hearers;  but  the  poets 
have  at  their  lectures  an  incredible  number  of  hearers.  Thus,  all 
the  universities  of  Germany  are  losing;  and  we  must  pray  to  God 


LETTERS   OF   OBSCURE   MEN.  79 

that  the  poets  may  die,  for  "it  is  better  that  one  should  die,"  etc.; 
that  is  to  say,  that  the  poets,  of  whom  there  are  only  a  few  in 
each  university,  should  die,  rather  than  that  so  many  universities 
should  perish.  Write  me  now,  or  I  will  complain  loudly  of  your 
negligence.     Farewell.     Written  at  Rome. 

JOHANNES   KALB   TO    MASTER   ORTUIN   GRATIUS. 

A  friendly  greeting,   honorable  sir  and  venerable  master.     It 
surprises  me  greatly  that  you  are  always  pestering  me  with  your 
everlasting  demand:   "Write  me  some  news."     You  are  always 
eager  to  learn  the  news,  but  I  have  other  things  to  do.     I  cannot 
bother  about  novelties;  as  it  is,  I  am  obliged  to  run  hither  and 
thither  and  solicit  in  order  to  get  a  favorable  decision  and  acquire 
that  benefice.     But  if  3  ou  will  be  content,  I  will  write  you  once,  so 
that  in  the  future  you  may  let  me  rest  with  your  news.     You  have 
no  doubt  heard  that  the  pope  has  a  great  animal,  called  Elephant, 
and  that  he  holds  it  in  great  honor  and  loves  it  much.     Now  you 
must  know  that  this  animal  is  dead.     When  it  was  taken  sick  the 
pope  was  in  great  distress,  and  summoned  several  physicians  and 
said  to  them :  "  If  it  is  possible,  cure  Elephant  for  me. "     Then  they 
did  their  best;  made  a  careful  diagnosis  and  administered  a  purge 
that  cost  five  hundred  golden  florins,  but  it  was  in  vain,  for  the 
animal  died.     The  pope  grieved  much  for  Elephant.     They  say 
he  gave  a  thousand  ducats  for  Elephant;  for  it  was  a  wonderful 
animal,  and  had  a  long  snout  of  prodigious  size.     When  it  beheld 
the  pope  it  knelt  before  him  and  cried  with  a  terrible  voice,  "bar! 
bar!  bar!"     I  believe  there  was  no  other  animal  of  the  kind  in  the 
world.     They  say,  also,  that  the  king  of  France  and  King  Charles 
have  concluded  a  peace  for  many   years  with   mutual  pledges. 
Many,  however,  are  of  the  opinion  that  the  peace  was  made  with 
reservations  and  will  not  last  long.     I  do  not  know  what  the  facts 
really  are,  and  do  not  care  much;  for  when  I  come  back  to  Ger- 
many I  shall  go  to  my  pastorate  and  enjoy  life.     I  have  there 
many  geese,  chickens  and  ducks,  and  I  can  keep  five  or  six  cows, 
which  will  give  me  milk,  so  that  I  can  make  cheese  and  butter. 
I  want  to  have  a  cook  who  understands  such  work.     She  must  be 
an  elderly  woman;   for  if  she  were  young,  she  would  be  a  tempta- 
tion to  the  flesh,  and  I  might  sin.     She  must  also  know  how  to 
spin,  for  I  will  buy  her  flax.     And  I  will  also  keep  two  or  three 
pigs  and  fatten  them,  so  that  I  shall  have  plenty  of  pork;  for 


80  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

above  all  things  I  will  supply  my  house  with  an  abundance  ot 
material  for  the  kitchen.  Once  in  a  while  I  will  butcher  an  ox, 
sell  half  to  the  peasants  and  smoke  the  rest.  Back  of  the  house  I 
have  a  garden,  where  I  shall  plant  garlic,  onions  and  parsley,  and 
I  shall  also  have  cabbage,  turnips  and  other  things.  In  the 
winter  I  shall  sit  in  my  room  and  study,  so  that  I  may  preach  to 
the  peasants  out  of  the  Sermones  parati  or  the  Discipuli,  and  also 
out  of  the  Bible,  and  in  this  wise  I  shall  be  well  fixed  for  preach- 
ing. And  in  summer  I  shall  go  fishing,  or  work  in  the  garden, 
and  take  no  heed  of  wars;  for  I  shall  live  for  myself,  read  my 
prayers  and  say  mass,  and  have  no  care  for  those  worldly  affairs 
which  bring  destruction  to  the  soul.  Farewell.  Written  at  the 
Roman  curia. 

JOHANNES  BUTZBACH  * 

Johannes  Butzbach,  1478-1526,  is  to  be  reckoned  among  the  conservative 
humanists  of  the  sixteenth  century.  The  struggles  of  his  earlier  career, 
related  in  part  below,  give  evidence  of  his  high  appreciation  of  the  value  of 
learning.  This  sentiment  he  never  lost,  and  during  the  years  of  his  admin- 
istration of  the  affairs  of  the  abbey  of  Laach,  from  1507  to  his  death,  his 
constant  effort  was  to  infuse  into  the  life  of  his  community  a  zeal  for  study 
and  intellectual  improvement.  His  literary  activity  centered  upon  the 
much  debated  question,  as  to  whether  the  reading  of  classical  authors  was 
conducive  or  detrimental  to  Christian 'morals.  Butzbach,  true  to  the  tra- 
ditions of  Deventer,  affirmed  their  utility,  regarding  their  use  as  part  of  the 
preparation  for  the  completer  understanding  of  the  holy  scriptures,  whose 
true  significance  might  only  be  interpreted  by  men  of  universal  culture. 
Replying  to  the  objection,  so  often  urged,  that  classical  writings  contained 
much  that  was  contrary  to  Christian  ethics,  Butzbach  founded  his  argument 
upon  the  saying  of  St.  Basil,  that  the  literary  worker,  like  the  bee,  should 
learn  to  appropriate  only  the  wholesome  nectar  and  to  reject  the  poisonous 
juices  of  the  flowers  amidst  which  he  labored. 

Book  1.  Chapter  S. 
In  the  earlier  chapters  Butzbach  relates  the  story  of  his  infancy  and 
primary  education.  His  career  in  the  school  of  his  native  town  teas  brought 
to  an  untimely  close  by  repeated  acts  of  truancy,  resulting  in  a  cruel  chastise- 
ment at  the  hands  of  the  master.  About  this' time  a  neighbor's  son,  himself 
a  wandering  student,  happened  to  be  visiting  at  home,  and  offered  to  take 
the  young  Johannes  under  his  protection  and  make  a  scholar  of  him.     The 

'The  following  selections  are  from  the  Hodoporicon  or  Little  Book  of 
Wandering.  The  sole  manuscript  of  this  autobiographical  work  of  Butz- 
bach is  in  possession  of  the  library  of  Boun. 


JOHANNES    BUTZBACH.  8 1 

parents,  who  resented  Johannes'  cruel  treatment  at  the  village  master's 
hands,  consented,  and  Johannes  set  forth  with  a  slender  store  of  money  and  a 
large  equipment  of  blessings  and  hope. 

Robbed  of  my  parents  and  homeless,  a  living  image  of  grief  and 
sorrow,  sobbing  and  crying  aloud  ceaselessly,  I  followed  with 
hesitating  steps  the  student  striding  on  before.  If  I  failed  at  any 
time  to  come  to  his  bidding,  he  became  ever  freer  with  his  harsh 
words  and  bitter  reproaches  as  the  way  lengthened  that  separated 
us  from  home.  In  this  way  he  wounded  still  more  my  lacerated 
spirit.  Indeed,  he  was  by  nature  of  unusual  harshness;  and  the 
less  cause  he  had  to  fear  my  escape,  on  account  of  the  growing 
distance  from  home  and  my  increasing  ignorance  of  the  way,  the 
more  he  sought  to  hold  me  in  check  with  fear  and  at  the  same 
time  to  spur  me  on  with  threats.  After  a  march  of  two  good 
miles,  which  indeed  was  no  trifle,  as  they  say,  especially  as  in 
this  instance  they  separated  two  creatures  inspired  with  mutual 
love,  we  came  from  Miltenberg  at  nightfall  to  the  village  of 
Kiilsheim,  already  mentioned.  Wearily  I  followed  the  student 
into  the  best  inn  that  the  place  afforded. 

Chapter  q. 
As  we  entered  the  door  of  the  inn,  the  landlord  came  forward 
to  meet  us,  and  very  prudently  inquired  from  what  country  we 
were  come,  whither  we  were  bound  and  what  might  be  our  wish. 
The  student  gave  him  little  satisfaction,  but  asked  him  if  he  could 
accommodate  us.  To  this  the  landlord  replied:  "  If  your  money 
is  good,  and  you  are  good  drinkers,  you  will  be  welcome  guests." 
The  student  rejoined:  "The  money  is  all  right.  Just  have  the 
table  prepared  and  an  abundance  to  eat  and  drink  set  forth." 
"You  talk  well,"  replied  the  landlord,  "  and  I  will  do  with  pleas- 
ure what  you  ask.  I  wish,  however,  that  there  were  more  of 
you;  for,  hoping  that  guests  would  arrive,  I  have  prepared  a  more 
than  usually  sumptuous  meal  for  this  evening."  When  the 
student  heard  this  he  exclaimed:  "That  is  a  piece  of  good  for- 
tune, that  you  have  prepared  such  abundant  refreshment.  I  have 
here  several  relatives,  with  whom  I  shall  be  glad  to  pass  a  merry 
evening  once  more  before  my  departure;  and  since  they  are  in 
service  and  not  well-to-do,  I  will  pay  the  whole  reckoning,  and 
you  may  rest  easy  on  that  score."  "A  bargain!  "  cried  the  land- 
lord.    "  I  will  have  them  summoned  at  once." 


82  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE    GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

The  guests  did  not  keep  us  waiting,  but  set  themselves  to  the 
table  and  showed  themselves  valiant  trenchermen.  The  student 
took  no  heed  of  what  might  become  of  his  poor  little  companion. 
When  the  landlord  inquired:  "Where  is  the  young  fellow  that 
came  with  you  ?  "  the  student  looked  about  him  and  replied:  "  I 
think  he  must  have  gone  to  sleep  there  behind  the  stove,  tired 
out  with  the  journey.  Let  him  sleep  and  rest  out.  Sleep  will  do 
him  more  good  than  food." 

Chapter  10. 

I  was  not  asleep,  however,  as  he  said;  but  I  dared  not  express 
the  feelings  his  words  aroused.  During  the  da}-,  occupied  with 
preparations  for  the  journey,  I  had  eaten  very  little,  nor  had 
I  desired  to  eat.  Now  I  was  hungry,  but  I  dared  not  come  to 
the  table  without  an  invitation  from  the  student.  At  the  same 
time  the  gnawing  in  my  stomach  and  the  pangs  of  hunger  let  me 
neither  sleep  nor  rest.  I  pretended  to  sleep,  however,  and  sur- 
rendered myself  patiently  to  my  fate,  picturing  to  myself  my 
wretched  and  abandoned  condition.  When  the  meal  was  over, 
the  student  paid  the  reckoning  for  all  the  guests  out  of  my  money, 
just  as  though  it  had  been  his  own.  What  could  I  say  ?  What 
had  I  the  courage  to  do  or  think  under  the  circumstances?  He 
regarded  me  as  something  delivered  over  to  him,  sold  to  him, 
indeed,  or  as  some  estray  that  he  had  picked  up  and  made  his 
property. 

Early  in  the  morning  we  got  under  way  and  came  to  the  town 
of  Bishofsheim,  two  miles  distant.  There  we  took  a  bite  and 
wandered  on  our  way  to  Windsheim,  an  imperial  city.  As  we 
entered  the  town  I  was  lost  in  admiration  of  the  massive  walls, 
the  houses  high  as  the  heavens,  and  the  churches  and  towers,  the 
like  of  which  I  had  never  seen  in  our  native  town  or  elsewhere. 

On  the  following  day  we  journeyed  further  and  came  to  the  city 
of  IyOngenzenn.  Here  we  were  affectionately  received  by  a  citi- 
zen of  the  town,  a  weaver,  who  not  long  before  had  worked  for 
several  years  with  my  father.  By  him  we  were  entertained  and 
otherwise  hospitably  treated.  We  conveyed  to  him  the  heartfelt 
greetings  of  our  parents,  as  they  had  urgently  requested.  He 
consoled  me  for  the  separation  from  my  parents  as  if  I  had  been 
his  own  child,  and  succeeded  in  quieting  my  grief.  He  never 
tired  cf  cheering  my  saddened  spirit  with  friendly  conversation; 


JOHANNES    BUTZBACH.  83 

nor  did  he  cease  to  soothe  my  wounded  heart  with  gentle  words, 
and  cleverly  cited  as  an  example  the  fact  that  he,  and  my  father 
as  well,  and  many  other  persons,  both  of  the  worldly  and  of  the 
spiritual  order,  of  whom  I  knew,  had  been  obliged  to  endure 
much  in  foreign  countries,  in  order  to  learn  something.  The 
next  morning,  refreshed  and  consoled,  he  set  me  upon  my  way, 
once  more  urgently  commending  me  to  the  student's  care. 
Thence  I  wandered  on  with  my  little  pack,  along  the  hard  and 
weary  and  unknown  way,  trotting  ever  along  behind  the  student, 
to  Nuremberg,  a  famous  seat  of  trade  and  industry. 

Chapter  n. 

When  at  last  I  saw  from  the  distance  the  towers  and  the  blue 
smoke  of  Nuremberg,  it  almost  seemed  to  me  that  I  was  looking, 
not  at  a  single  city,  but  at  a  whole  world.  I  thought  we  had 
only  a  mile  to  go;  but  when  we  inquired  of  some  people  whom 
we  met  on  the  road  how  far  it  was,  they  replied  that  it  was  still 
three  miles.  It  was  not  so  much  the  distance  as  our  impatient 
desire  to  reach  the  city,  whose  image  lay  before  us  on  the  horizon, 
that  made  the  way  so  unwelcome.  In  order  to  while  away  the 
time,  the  student  related  some  incidents  tending  to  exalt  his  in- 
dividual prowess.  A  song  or  a  story  generally  causes  the 
wanderer  to  forget  the  tedium  of  the  way.  When  toward  even- 
ing we  finally  approached  the  city,  we  halted  a  little  while  under 
the  walls,  to  prepare  us  for  our  entrance  into  the  town.  The 
student  sought  to  spoil  my  expectations  with  his  witticisms: 
"Since  you  have  never  been  here  before,"  he  said  among  other 
things,  "  it  will  be  necessary  to  sew  up  your  mouth."  When  the 
tears  rose  in  my  eyes  at  this  remark,  he  added:  "  Now  follow  me 
close  behind  and  do  not  keep  looking  to  this  side  and  to  that;  and 
do  not  gape  at  the  house-tops  with  open  mouth.  And  look  out 
that  I  do  not  have  to  wait  for  you  ever  now  and  then  in  the 
street,  on  account  of  your  everlasting  slowness,  or  when  we  come 
to  the  inn  you  will  get  a  good  thrashing." 

So  I  slunk  into  the  city  all  of  a  tremble,  exhausted  with  the 
effort  of  keeping  up  with  my  companion.  With  very  tired  and 
bruised  feet  I  followed  the  student  through  many  streets  paved 
with  sharp  stones,  while  from  all  sides  crowds  of  school  boys  fell 
upon  me.  Because  I  gave  no  answer  to  their  shout:  "  Are  you  a 
student?  "  they  held  their  hands  to  their  foreheads,  stretched  out 


84  SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE    GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

like  asses'  ears,  and  followed  me  in  this  manner  all  the  way  to 
the  inn.  When  they  learned,  however,  that  we  intended  to  stop 
in  the  city,  they  ceased  from  further  persecutions  and  began  ex- 
tolling with  fulsome  praises  their  school  above  all  other  schools  in 
the  land. 

{Here  follow  various  adventures  of  travel.) 

Chapter  16. 
When  we  arrived  at  a  village,  he  sent  me  on  to  beg,  and  waited 
for  me  at  the  further  end  of  the  place.  If  I  came  back  with 
empty  hands,  he  beat  me  furiously  and  cried:  "  Aha!  by  Heavens, 
I  will  teach  you  to  beg  jqV.  "  If,  however,  I  had  succeeded  in 
getting  something  choice,  he  devoured  it  at  once,  and  I  got  only 
what  remained.  So  it  went  on  the  whole  time  that  I  stayed  with 
him.  Indeed,  he  was  so  suspicious  that  he  often  forced  me  to 
rinse  my  mouth  with  water  and  spit  it  out,  that  he  might  see  if  I 
had  perhaps  appropriated  something  good  from  my  begging;  for 
it  often  happened  that  kindly  women,  moved  by  my  modesty  and 
my  delicate  youth,  took  me  from  the  street  into  their  houses,  and 
when  they  had  listened  to  the  story  of  my  misery  and  of  my, sad 
parting  from  my  parents,  they  were  moved  with  pity  and  gave  me 
as  rich  refreshment  as  their  own  children  enjoyed.  This  dissatis- 
fied the  student  greatly,  on  account  of  his  envious  nature,  and  as 
often  as  it  came  to  his  knowledge  that  such  a  piece  of  fortune  had 
happened  to  me  in  his  absence,  he  fell  upon  me  with  fist  and  stick. 

Chapter  ij. 
He  compelled  me  to  beg  through  places  so  foul  and  muddy,  that 
I  was  obliged  to  wade  up  to  my  ankles,  sometimes  up  to  my 
knees  iu  mud,  and  like  one  who  treads  dough,  could  go  neither 
forward  nor  backward.  Sometimes  I  was  attacked  so  savagely  by 
watch-dogs  that  I  believe,  if  the  inhabitants  had  not  come  to  my 
rescue,  I  should  have  been  torn  to  pieces.  The  student  himself 
had  a  great  dislike  for  begging  and  did  not  practice  it,  recogniz- 
ing that  he  would  be  laughed  at  by  the  peasant  people  as  a  great 
lazy  rascal,  and  he  did  not  care  to  soil  himself  with  the  mud, 
which  he  knew  was  very  deep  in  these  places  during  the  rainy 
weather.  Moreover,  in  order  not  to  be  bothered  by  the  dogs,  it 
was  his  habit  to  go  around  the  villages  through  the  fields  and 
meadows,  a  thing  which  he  could  not  permit  me  to  do,  by  reason 
of  my  begging.     This  custom  he  adopted  011  the  other  side  of 


JOHANNES   BUTZBACH.  85 

Nuremberg,  and  held  rigidly  to  it  until  we  earne  nearly  to  the 
town  of  Kaaden  in  Bohemia,  and  afterwards  during  the  whole  of 
the  remaining  time  that  I  was  with  him  on  the  journey. 

In  Kaaden  we  were  invited  by  the  rector  of  the  school  to  take 
up  our  residence,  and  received  one  room  for  us  both  in  the  bursary. 
Shortly  thereafter  came  two  wandering  students  from  Vienna 
with  their  schiltzen,  and  were  shown  into  quarters  with  us.  Dur- 
ing the  day,  or  at  least  what  was  left  of  the  day,  after  the  public 
lesson,  the  chorus  and  the  begging,  I  stayed  in  our  cell,  but  dur- 
ing the  night  we  young  schiitzen,  as  many  as  there  were  of  us, 
used  to  remain  in  the  common  room,  on  account  of  the  cold,  aud 
sleep  on  a  wooden  platform  over  the  stove.  Once  I  fell  off  the 
platform,  aud  although  I  did  quite  as  much  injury  to  my  head  as  to 
the  stove,  nevertheless  I  was  thought  to  deserve  a  severe  censure 
on  account  of  the  damage  I  was  guilty  of. 

Chapter  24. 
[After  further  adventures  in   Bohemia  they  came  to  Eger,  where  they 
secured  positions  in  the  houses  of  certain  wealthy  citizens,  acting  as  tutors 
and  companions  to  the  sons  of  these  citizens,  and  receiving  bcaid  and  lodg- 
ing in  return.) 

The  student  was  overjoyed  at  his  unexpected  good  fortune. 
My  own,  however,  which  seemed  to  him  even  better,  aroused  his 
envy  and  anger.  "  It  is  not  becoming,"  he  said,  "that  a  schiitze 
like  you  should  be  so  quickly  promoted  among  strangers,  and  see 
better  times  than  I  ni3rself;"  and  since  he  had  no  longer  any  need, 
on  account  of  his  new  position,  of  my  services  in  begging,  he 
handed  me  over  to  two  other  big  students,  for  whom  I  was  to 
forage  during  the  winter.  I  complained  of  this  to  the  lad  who 
had  been  entrusted  to  me,  and  he  told  his  parents,  whereupon 
they  advised  me  to  come  home  with  their  son  immediately  after 
school  and  let  the  others  go.  After  I  had  done  this  a  few  times, 
against  the  commands  of  the  student,  he  caught  me  one  day  as 
we  were  coming  from  school,  and  together  with  his  companions 
dragged  me  to  their  quarters,  where  they  tore  the  clothes  from 
my  body,  beat  me  for  a  long  time  with  rods  upon  my  naked  skin, 
and  then  left  me  tied  in  the  room  in  the  severe  cold  until  the  next 
day.  Next  morning  he  asked  me  if  I  was  disposed  to  attend  to 
my  duties  with  the  students,  and  I  made  haste  to  answer  that  I 
was.  Then  he  unbound  me,  turned  me  over  to  his  companions 
with  threats  and  curses,  ami  went  his  way  to  his  dwelling. 


86  SOURCE-BOOK    OF    THE    GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

Chapter  25. 

Thus  was  my  lad  obliged  to  go  to  school  alone  that  morning. 
When  he  learned  what  had  happened  to  me,  he  hastened  to  ac- 
quaint his  parents  with  the  facts.  The  following  evening,  when 
we  had  returned  from  school,  I  related  to  them,  at  their  request,  all 
that  had  taken  place,  and  they  were  much  moved  with  compassion 
for  me.  The}-  ordered  me  to  remain  in  the  house,  to  await  what- 
ever might  occur.  The  student,  however,  when  he  became  aware, 
both  from  the  complaints  of  his  fellow-students,  to  whom  he  had 
sold  me,  and  from  my  absence  as  well,  of  what  had  transpired, 
fell  into  a  great  rage,  and  came  the  following  morning  to  our 
house,  together  with  a  great  company  of  students  and  schutzen. 
They  succeeded  in  making  their  wa}'  up  to  the  upper  stor)-,  where 
we  were,  when  the  father  opposed  them  with  weapons  in  his 
hands,  let  drive  at  them  promiscuously,  and  drove  them  out  of 
the  house  and  court-yard,  calling  after  them  that  they  should 
not  presume  again  to  enter  there. 

But  aias  for  me!  After  this  occurrence  I  knew  not  which  way 
to  turn.  I  had  the  courage  neither  to  go  to  school  nor  even  to 
run  an  errand  out  of  doors,  because  my  students  sent  me  word 
that  they  would  tear  me  into  pieces,  if  they  could  catch  me  any- 
wmere.  Out  of  fear  I  gave  up  school,  fled  secretly  from  the  city 
and  betook  me  to  the  baths.1  There  I  served  the  guests  at  an  inn 
until  the  new  year,  when  I  was  kidnaped  by  a  Bohemian  noble. 

Thus  was  I  forced,  through  the  cruelty  of  my  student,  to  give 
up  school  and  the  study  of  the  sciences,  since  I  could  no  longer 
endure  his  godless  treatment  of  me  ;  I,  who  had  been  so  urgently 
recommended  to  him  by  my  parents.  Neither  of  us  has  met  the 
other  face  to  face  since  that  time,  nor  have  I  ever  learned  what 
became  of  him.  At  the  baths,  however,  I  came  across  two 
schiitzen,  who  formerly  had  shared  my  room  in  the  bursa  at 
Kaaden,  and  they  related  that  their  students  had  been  hanged 
for  theft,  committed  at  some  place  or  other.  Then  the  thought 
came  to  me,  that  something  of  the  kind  might  have  happened  to 
mine.  If  this  ever  came  to  pass  at  a  later  time — which  indeed  I 
should  not  wish  to  happen — at  least  it  was  not  necessary  that  he 
should  have  degenerated,  for  his  father  came  to  the  gailows  at 
home  on  account  of  theft.     In  the  meantime  I  have  heard,  that 

1  Carlsbad. 


JOHANNES    BUTZBACH.  87 

after  my  departure  he  came  once  into  the  neighborhood  of  our 
native  place,  but  did  not  enter  the  town,  both  on  account  of  his 
shame,  because  his  father  had  been  hanged,  and  because  he  had 
lost  me.  His  friends,  to  whom  he  contrived  to  send  word  secretly, 
went  out  to  him,  and  with  them  my  people,  who  had  learned  of 
his  coming.  When  he  was  unable  to  answer  their  pressing  in- 
quiries as  to  where  he  had  left  me,  and  became  involved  in  even 
greater  contradictious,  he  took  the  first  opportunity  of  getting 
away  from  them,  and  from  that  day  to  this  he  has  never  shown 
himself  at  our  home. 

Behold,  you  have  before  you  all  the  misery  to  which  I  was 
exposed  from  my  seventh  to  my  twelfth  year  under  the  school- 
master's rod,  and  you  have  seen  what  fidelity  that  wretched 
student,  after  all  the  careful  recommendations  of  my  parents,  ex- 
hibited toward  me  in  the  midst  of  strangers.  May  the  almighty 
God  forgive  him  for  that  which  he  has  done.     Amen. 

{The  Second  Book  of  Butzbach's  narrative  contains  an  account  of  his 
adventures  among  the  heretics  of  Bohemia,  during  which  his  school  ex- 
periences were  wholly  interrupted.  He  succeeded  finally  in  returning  home, 
where  he  found  opportunity  of  resuming  his  studies  under  more  favorable 
conditions.) 

Book  III.     Chapter  S. 

While  occupied  with  the  duties  and  exercises  of  a  lay  brother,1 
my  inclination  toward  the  higher  functions  of  the  brethren  grew 
apace,  and  I  deeply  bewailed  my  misfortune,  that  I  had  been 
obliged  to  give  up  my  studies.  This  did  not  escape  the  attention 
of  the  younger  brethren,  who  had  but  recently  come  from  the 
schools,  and  they  secretly  advised  me  to  betake  myself  to  De- 
venter.  There  was  in  our  convent  an  elderly  monk,  Peter  Schlarp 
by  name,  a  very  diligent  and  learned  man,  who  gave  me  a  letter 
of  introduction  to  the  rector  of  the  high  school  at  De-venter,  Alex- 
ander Hegius. 

Fortified  with  this  letter  I  set  out,  although  the  abbot  inter- 
posed some  objections,  and  expressed  himself  as  having  no  con- 
fidence in  my  success.  In  the  preliminary  examinations  I  was 
unable  to  answer  the  questions  put  to  me,  but  because  they  were 
so  astonished  at  the  good  and  correct  Latin  of  my  letter  of  intro- 

1  Butzbach  had  beeu  accepted  as  lay  brother  in  the  monastery  of  St.  John 
the  Baptist  at  Johannisberg. 


88  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE   GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

duction  I  was  put  into  the  seventh  grade,  where  I  set  out  to 
master  the  rudiments  of  grammar,  along  with  the  little  boys. 
But  through  want,  hunger  and  cold  I  came  into  such  distress  that 
I  was  obliged  again  to  give  up  the  studies  I  had  undertaken. 
With  a  few  comrades,  upon  whose  advice  I  acted,  I  left  the  place. 

Two  noble  lords,  Johann  G ,  who  afterwards  died  of  the  pest, 

and  his  brother  Frederick,  who  is  still  living,  interceded  for  me, 
and  I  was  taken  back  into  the  cloister,  although  previous  to  this 
I  had  laid  aside  the  garb  and  entered  the  cloister  of  Eberbach, 
unmindful  of  the  commands  of  the  abbot  to  return.  This  cloister 
is  said  to  have  been  founded  b}'  St.  Bernard  at  the  time  when  he 
was  in  that  region  as  imperial  legate.  Thus  I  received  a  second 
time  the  habit  of  the  order,  and  a  further  departure,  or  a  continu- 
ance of  my  studies,  was  no  more  to  be  thought  of. 

In  a  quiet  way  I  had  about  reconciled  myself  to  remaining  here 
forever,  when  it  happened  one  day  that  I  had  occasion  to  accom- 
pany the  abbot  to  Frankfort.  Here  we  encountered  my  mother. 
She  had  heard  that  I  was  already  a  "  Lollard,"  had  sought  me  in 
the  cloister  and  had  followed  us  with  a  heart  full  of  sorrow.  The 
whole  day  she  interceded  with  the  abbot,  praying  that  she  might 
be  permitted  to  send  me  once  more  to  school.  But  the  abbot  was 
not  to  be  moved  with  the  most  urgent  entreaty.  When  my 
mother  saw  that  she  could  accomplish  nothing  in  this  way,  she 
gave  me  money  secretly  and  made  me  promise  that  upon  our 
return  I  should  leave  the  cloister,  even  against  the  abbot's  will. 

Chapter  9. 

We  returned  to  our  cloister.  I  had  not  the  courage  to  beg  for 
permission  to  go  forth.  Already  I  was  thoroughly  reconciled  to 
remaining  in  my  humble  condition.  Then  it  happened  that  the 
abbot,  disturbed  in  his  heart  by  the  woman's  entreat}",  came  of 
his  own  accord  to  me.  He  spoke  to  me  kindly,  and  said  that  I 
might  undertake  that  which  according  to  my  knowledge  and 
conscience  seemed  the  better  thing  to  do.  All  abashed  at  his 
graciousness,  I  confessed  my  fervent  love  for  the  sciences,  and 
the  desire,  which  had  alwa3Ts  animated  my  soul,  to  attain  to  the 
higher  grades  of  the  order. 

Then  the  abbot  said:  "  Go  hence  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  and 
remain  ever  steadfast  in  thy  good  resolve.  Thj*  mother's  wish 
shall  be  fulfilled.     Go  with  zeal  and  endurance  to  Wiy  studies  and 


JOHANNES    BUTZBACH.  89 

complete  them;  then  come  hither  and  the  order  will  be  open  to 
thee." 

So  for  the  third  time  I  left  the  cloister  and  betook  myself  to  my 
native  town.  I  was  a  welcome  guest  with  all  niy  acquaintances; 
and  when  the  people  heard  that  I  was  going  once  more  to  school, 
there  were  certain  masters  who  applauded  my  resolve  and  wished 
me  luck.  Others,  on  the  contrary,  thought  I  was  too  old  and 
laughed  at  me.  But  my  father  expressed  no  little  joy  at  the 
prospect,  and  gave  me  at  once  the  money  for  the  journey.  Five 
guilders  he  gave  me.  Moreover  he  knew  that  my  mother  had 
still  a  very  beautiful  piece  of  money,  which  she  bad  received  from 
Hillig  when  he  became  engaged  to  her,  and  he  urgently  de- 
manded I  should  have  that  too.  But  my  mother  was  unwilling 
to  give  it  up,  and  intended,  without  my  father's  knowledge,  to 
give  me  another  guilder  in  its  place.  Thereupon  a  serious  quarrel 
ensued  between  them,  the  result  of  which  was  that  my  mother 
was  soundly  beaten  and  her  hair  severely  pulled.  When  I  saw 
that,  I  threw  down  my  pack  and  the  rest  of  ray  money,  and  with 
my  brothers  and  sisters  rushed  to  my  mother's  aid,  against  my 
father.  I  succeeded  in  dragging  her  from  under  his  feet.  Weep- 
ing bitterly,  I  left  the  house,  and  registered  with  myself  a  vow 
that  after  such  occurrences  I  would  never  again  set  foot  in  any 
school,  nor  would  I  even  go  back  to  the  cloister.  Meanwhile  my 
father's  anger  had  subsided,  and  when  he  came  back  once  more 
to  his  senses,  unable  to  endure  the  stings  of  conscience,  he  ran 
through  the  village  in  search  of  me.  When  at  last  he  found  me, 
he  begged  me,  in  the  agony  of  his  spirit,  not  to  abandon  my 
design.  I  might  forgive  him  his  offence,  since  he  had  done 
wrong  through  his  effort  to  further  my  plans.  I  should  be  recon- 
ciled and  go  on  with  my  undertaking,  which  had  given  him  so 
much  pleasure.  Thereupon  he  handed  me  the  guilder  obtained 
with  so  many  blows,  and  I  accepted  it  for  the  sake  of  peace, 
meaning  secretly  to  return  it  to  my  mother  at  a  later  opportunity, 
when  she  accompanied  me  to  the  boat. 

Finally,  I  tore  myself  away.  Our  boat  sailed  down  the  Main 
and  onwards  down  the  Rhine.  We  changed  masters  both  at 
Mainz  and  Cologne.  Unusually  favorable  winds  filled  our  - 
and  after  nine  days  we  landed  at  Deventer.  Again  I  was  ex" 
amined  by  the  rector,  and  put  into  the  eighth  grade.  There  I 
sat  beside  six  other  grown-up  schoolmates,  who  in  consequence  of 


90  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE   GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

an  insurrection  had  taken  to  study  through  fear;  because  a  few  days 
before  our  arrival  a  mob  of  seven  thousand  insurgents,  who  held 
a  city  in  siege,  had  been  overwhelmed  by  the  Bishop  of  Maestricht 
and  the  Duke  of  Gueldres.  A  hundred  of  them  had  been  con- 
demned to  death.  These  were  executed  on  the  day  of  my  arrival 
and  on  the  two  days  preceding,  and  I  saw  them  still  lying  on  the 
wheels.  Of  these  schoolmates  just  mentioned,  who  entered  upon 
their  studies  more  out  of  fear  than  from  an}-  thirst  for  knowledge, 
only  a  few  were  steadfast.  For  the  most  part  they  were  too  slow 
of  understanding  and  made  no  progress,  while  I  strove  night  and 
da}-  by  diligent  application  to  acquire  a  better  degree  of  informa- 
tion. 

Chapter  w. 

It  was  not  long  before  my  classmates  were  dismissed.  One  of 
them,  however,  sat  for  four  years  in  the  same  grade  and  scarcely 
learned  to  read,  notwithstanding  he  dwelt  with  the  teacher  of  his 
class,  and  had  gone  to  considerable  expense;  but  with  no  result. 
For  my  part,  I  had  been  in  the  eighth  grade  but  a  short  time 
when  I  was  permitted  to  pass  over  the  seventh  and  to  enter  the 
sixth  grade,  and  from  this  I  came  at  Easter  into  the  fifth.  At 
that  time  I  secured  a  place  with  the  Brethren  in  the  relief  house, 
where  only  those  from  the  fifth  grade  upward  were  received,  and 
then  only  on  condition  that  they  intended  to  become  monks. 
Moreover  I  was  free  to  visit  the  house  of  a  canon  in  the  town,  who 
was  also  provost  at  Ziitphen,  when  I  was  in  need;  for  before  my 
entrance  into  the  brotherhood  house,  while  I  dwelt  in  the  city  at 
the  house  of  a  very  pious  maiden  lady,  I  had  the  opportunity,  on 
several  occasions,  to  be  of  service  to  the  canon,  by  lending  a  help- 
ing hand  to  his  sewing  people,1  and  on  one  occasion  to  the  chief 
of  his  household.  In  addition  to  this  I  had  made  several  other 
acquaintances,  who  were  favorably  disposed  toward  me,  and  in 
time  of  need  and  suffering  gave  me  much  aid  and  comfort. 

During  this  time  I  had  to  struggle  against  many  and  various 
difficulties  in  the  way  of  ill  health  and  sickness;  so  that  at  times, 
in  spite  of  all  my  eagerness  for  knowledge,  I  was  half  persuaded 
to  give  up  the  attempt.  It  seemed  to  me  that  never  before,  up  to 
this  time,  had  I  been  obliged  to  contend  with  such  an  insalubrious 
climate  and  such  a  raw  atmosphere  as  in  this  place,  whereby  I 

1  After  his  return  from  Bohemia,  Butzbach  had  been  apprenticed  to  a  tailor. 


JOHANNES    BUTZBACH.  9 1 

was  persecuted  day  by  day  with  all  kinds  of  torments  and  sick- 
ness, so  continuously  that  I  began  to  think  seriously  of  hanging 
my  studies  on  the  nail  and  taking  up  again  my  old  trade,  if  only 
to  get  away  from  this  region  and  from  its  inhabitants.  Now  it 
was  burning  fevers,  now  tumorous  affections,  which  threatened 
my  life.  Next  came  the  quinsy,  complicated  with  a  swelling  01 
the  larynx;  then  the  itch,  and  indeed  in  so  horrible  a  form  that 
my  whole  skin  was  stiff  from  it.  In  addition  to  this  I  often  suf- 
fered from  boils  on  various  portions  of  my  body.  Then  too  I  had 
a  swelling  of  the  feet,  and  often  for  considerable  periods  a  swelling 
of  the  thigh.  Finalty  I  got  help  from  a  woman  who  possessed  a 
knowledge  of  the  art  of  healing.  With  an  iron  instrument  she 
cut  out  the  swelling  from  my  thigh,  which  she  called  a  "rose." 
I  was  almost  crazed  with  the  pain  of  the  operation.  Moreover  I 
lived  in  constant  fear  lest  some  misfortune,  of  which  they  at  home 
were  also  fearful,  should  overtake  me.  Almost  never  did  I  feel 
myself  secure,  and  when,  as  it  often  happens,  the  outbreak  of  a 
war  was  apprehended,  I  feared  lest  I  should  be  obliged  to  return 
home  before  the  completion  of  my  studies,  still  ignorant  of  the 
sciences,  an  object  of  ridicule  to  those  who  were  of  the  opinion  I 
would  derive  no  benefit  from  my  studies,  and  who,  when  I  went 
seriously  about  it,  looked  upon  me  as  insane.  Moreover,  it  was 
daily  rumored  that  the  pest  was  at  hand.  At  the  outbreak  of  the 
pest  or  of  war  it  was  the  custom  to  send  scholars  out  of  the  town. 
Furthermore,  I  suffered  much  from  an  itching  malady,  called  "fig- 
warts,"  which  covered  the  body  like  the  bark  of  an  oak  tree. 
Moreover,  I  was  constantly  pestered  with  many  other  untoward 
conditions,  with  which  the  enemy,  with  divine  permission,  over- 
whelmed  me,  in  order  to  bring  me  from  my  undertaking,  if  such 
were  possible.  Strengthened,  however,  with  the  instructions  of 
the  pious  Brethren  of  the  Common  Life,  who  interested  them- 
selves in  the  affairs  of  scholars  with  so  much  affection  and  with 
so  much  success;  fortified  also  with  the  consolations  of  pious 
people,  I  overcame,  thank  God,  all  these  tribulations  with 
patience,  and  put  to  shame  the  treacherous  enemy  with   all   his 

machinations. 

Chapter  //. 

Now  that  all  these  sufferings  have  been  lived  down,  I  dwell 
upon  them  in  my  thoughts  with  much  pleasure,  because  I  believe 
that  they  were  all  sent  me  for  the  purification  and  advancement  of 


92  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE    GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

my  soul.  Five  times,  however,  it  happened,  that  at  the  instiga- 
tion of  others  I  was  on  the  point  of  giving  np  my  studies  and  re- 
turning home.  It  even  went  so  far  at  one  time — it  was  a  year 
after  my  arrival  and  I  was  then  Quintanus — that  one  morning  I 
made  my  preparations  to  depart  in  company  with  certain  com- 
rades. Suddenly,  on  the  evening  of  the  same  day,  the  swelling 
of  my  feet  and  the  abscess,  of  which  I  have  spoken,  attacked  me. 
A  journey  under  the  circumstances  was  out  of  the  question.  I 
remained  and  was  promoted  to  the  fourth  grade.  Now  I  thank 
God  for  this  dispensation.  Had  I  departed  at  that  time  no  one 
would  have  been  able  ever  to  induce  me  to  return  to  so  much 
miser)7. 

Two  reasons  in  particular  ma}-  be  adduced,  which  determined 
me  to  hold  out  and  bound  me  fast  to  the  sciences:  my  father's 
desire,  while  he  was  still  living;  and  the  prophecy,  if  I  may  call 
it  so,  of  certain  persons,  that  I  should  some  time  become  a  priest. 
The  former  was  expressed  at  home;  the  latter  at  Johannisberg, 
while  I  was  there  as  lay  brother  and  cloister  tailor;  for  on  a  cer- 
tain occasion,  while  I  was  sitting  at  my  work  and  engaged  in 
confidential  discourse  with  an  elderly  and  invalid  father,  for  whose 
care  and  service  I  was  daily  responsible;  and  while  I  was  telling 
him  how  greatly  to  my  sorrow  I  had  been  obliged,  as  a  lad,  to 
give  up  my  studies — while,  as  I  say,  I  was  telling  my  story  and 
lamenting  that  nothing  had  come  out  of  my  earlier  studies  and 
my  desire  to  become  a  priest,  a  certain  round  piece  of  bread, 
which  we  call  the  host,  and  which  I  had  fastened  to  the  wall  over 
against  my  work  table,  out  of  devotional  feeling  and  from  a  de- 
sire to  guard  against  the  temptations  to  which  the  vigorous  period 
of  youth  is  especially  subject,  and  also  to  have  a  remembrance  of 
the  sufferings  of  our  Lord  always  before  my  eyes,  this  piece  of 
of  bread,  I  say,  to  our  great  amazement,  detached  itself  from  the 
wall  and  fell  to  the  floor.  As  the  old  man,  who  with  shaking 
head  sat  behind  the  stove,  perceived  this,  he  stood  up,  in  spite 
of  the  senile  weakness  which  weighed  so  heavily  upon  him,  and 
in  a  lond  voice  exclaimed:  "See,  Brother  Johannes!  This  is  with- 
out doubt  a  sign  to  thee  of  thy  future  priesthood!  Thou  shalt  no 
longer  doubt,  but  of  a  truth  believe,  that,  when  thou  givest  thy- 
self again  to  study,  this  thing  which  has  just  happened  shall 
have  the  meaning  I  have  ascribed  to  it." 

He  also  foretold  the  da)7  and  the  hour  of  his  death,  and  even 


JOHANNES    BUTZBACH.  93 

after  he  was  dead  the  brethren  called  him  back  to  life,  to  make 
his  confession. 

His  word  I  never  forgot.  A  year  passed  before  I  again  gave 
myself  to  study,  and  with  my  parents'  help  returned  to  school, 
and  with  God's  grace  and  with  the  help  of  the  blessed  Virgin 
Mary,  within  four  years  according  to  the  prophecy  I  became 
monk  and  priest.  Now  may  this  benefaction  of  God  redound  to 
the  salvation  of  my  soul,  unworthy  that  I  am,  and  the  souls  of  my 
people,  and  to  the  glory  of  God!     That  is  my  most  urgent  wish. 

Chapter  12. 

The  same  was  once  said  to  my  mother  by  a  priest,  a  very 
worthy  man  and  pastor  in  the  town  of  Aschaffenburg,  where  once 
upon  a  time  he  brought  me  a  chasuble  to  be  repaired  and  heard 
the  deep  sigh  I  uttered  to  God,  as  I  tried  it  on  and  said:  "Would 
that  I  too  could  be  a  priest."  Furthermore  my  continuance  at 
study  was  largely  due  to  my  late  father's  desire,  who,  living  and 
dying,  had  expressed  this  as  his  especial  wish.  For  this  reason, 
during  his  life,  he  sent  me  to  school,  and  on  his  deathbed  he 
impressed  this  strongly  upon  mjr  mother's  mind.  After  her 
death,  when  I  had  given  up  the  tailor's  trade  and  was  taking 
counsel  with  our  friends,  in  reference  to  going  back  to  school,  the 
following  occurred :  One  morning,  as  my  brother  Kunz  and  I 
arose  and  were  dressing,  my  father's  spirit,  just  as  he  was  in  life, 
appeared  in  front  of  our  room,  remained  standing  a  little  time  in 
the  open  doorway,  and  looked  at  me  in  an  appealing  way,  as 
though  he  would  say  to  me  that  I  should  carry  out  my  plan, 
which  had  been  for  so  long  his  dearest  wish,  without  fear  or  hesi- 
tation. More  than  anything  else  was  this  occurrence  a  spur  to 
my  zeal  and  it  impelled  me  to  persevere  in  my  studies.  It",  in- 
deed, I  had  been  in  some  respects  too  little  obedient  to  my  father 
in  his  lifetime,  now  I  desired  to  make  amends,  since  he  so  ear- 
nestly desired  that  I  should  be  a  priest.  God  grant  that  now, 
when  I  am  one,  it  may  contribute  to  the  repose  of  his  soul! 

After  this  digression  I  shall  now  take  up  the  thread  of  my  narra- 
tive, and  I  wish  to  occupy  some  little  space  with  the  praise  of 
Deventer  itself,  where  I  endured  all  the  privations  which  I  have 
mentioned. 

The  people  are  wonderfully  kind  toward  the  poor,  to  an  extent 
which  I  have  observed  nowhere  else  ;  and  pious  withal  and  much 


94  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE   GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

attached  to  religion.  At  the  same  time  the  town,  by  reason  of  its 
extensive  trade  with  countries  across  the  sea  and  with  Holland 
and  Zealand,  is  extraordinarily  wealth}^.  May  I  be  set  down  as 
a  falsifier,  if  I  have  not  known  a  citizen  of  the  place,  a  great 
benefactor  toward  me  and  toward  other  poor  people,  who  gave 
his  daughter,  upon  the  occasion  of  her  marriage,  a  dowry  of  seven- 
teen thousand  guilders  in  hard  cash.  This  same  citizen's  wife 
was  also  a  very  upright  woman  and  wonderfully  charitable  toward 
the  poor  and  toward  strangers.  No  da}-  passed  that  she  did  not 
invite  some  six  or  seven  needy  clergymen  to  her  well  furnished 
table,  not  to  speak  of  the  alms  which  she  was  constantly  giving 
to  other  poor  men  at  her  door.  The  kindness  which  this  estim- 
able woman  showed  me  at  the  time  of  my  sickness  and  need  was 
truly  remarkable,  whether  it  be  in  the  way  of  food,  clothing  and 
money,  or  with  her  cheering  conversation.  She  and  her  family 
truly  deserve  to  be  rich,  for  they  are  not,  as  is  the  case  with  so 
many  rich  people,  proud  or  miserly,  nor  do  they  place  their  trust 
upon  the  volume  of  their  riches,  but,  gentle,  generous  and  pitiful 
toward  the  pra3'ers  of  the  poor,  the3T  set  their  hopes  upon  God. 
And  this  noble  city  has  many  more  such  God-fearing  people. 

In  addition  to  this  it  possesses  an  excellent  constitution  and  a 
well-regulated  government.  Alexander  Hegius,  formerly  director 
of  the  high  school  at  Deventer,  has  sung  the  praises  of  the  city  in 
the  following  brief  verses,  which  are  moreover  his  latest  composi- 
tion : 

"Of  the  piety  of  Deventer 

Through  the  towns  the  rumor  goes. 

I  esteem  it  worth  the  riches 

Which  there  everywhere  abound. 

There  the  peasant  is  protected, 

And  the  robber  feeis  the  law. 

There  each  man  receives  what  bounty, 

Horse  or  foot,  to  him  is  due. 

Ever  full  may  stand  the  treasure, 

Never  touched  by  faction's  hand. 

Thus  we  pray,  both  youth  and  elder, 

Night  and  day  for  native  land." 

As  its  patron  saint  the  city  reverences  the  holy  confessor  Leivin, 
once  a  monk  of  our  order,  and  a  pupil  of  St.  Willibrod.  In  his 
honor  was  built  a  beautiful  church,  wherein  his  bones,  together 
with  those  of  certain  other  saints,  as  for  example  St.  Margaret, 


JOHANNES    BUTZBACH.  95 

whose  remains  were  brought  from  Rome,  and  St.  Rathbod,  bishop 
of  Maestrieht,  and  many  others,  have  been  decently  laid  to  rest  in 
a  costly  chest.  The  holy  Leivin  came  from  England,  and  was 
the  first  who  won  this  land  to  the  Christian  faith.  He  dwelt  on 
the  Yssel,  a  tributary  of  the  Rhine,  and  even  at  the  present  day  his 
house  is  shown  by  people  dwelling  in  that  neighborhood  ;  al- 
though, in  truth,  its  appearance  has  much  changed. 

Besides  the  markets  which  are  held  at  Deventer  at  various 
times  of  the  year,  the  city  has  another  advantage,  whereby  it  has 
become  famous,  and  rightfully  so,  far  and  wide,  beyond  all  other 
cities  of  this  region.  This  is  due  to  its  Latin  school,  renowned 
for  a  long  time  past,  which,  under  the  supervision  of  men  of  cul- 
ture and  ability,  for  a  long  time  enjoyed  great  prosperity  on 
account  of  its  cultivation  of  the  humanities.  After  the  death  of 
Alexander  Hegius,  of  whom  I  have  spoken  above,  a  man  of  the 
profoundest  learning,  versed  in  three  languages,  and  withal  a 
philosopher  and  poet,  who  died  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  1498,  the 
first  year  of  my  student  life  in  Deventer — since  that  time  (with 
sorrow  I  chronicle  the  fact),  the  school  has  declined  greatly,  as 
reports  from  there  inform  me. 

That  was  indeed  a  man  worthy  of  all  praise,  as  in  fact  he  has 
been  so  deservedly  extolled,  both  living  and  since  his  death,  by 
many  distinguished  men.  Like  a  brilliant  light  he  shone  above 
the  people  through  his  uprightness,  his  comprehensive  knowledge 
and  his  great  gifts,  superior  to  all  his  learned  contemporaries. 
His  former  pupil,  the  illustrious  Desiderius  Erasmus,  in  his 
Adages  pays  high  tribute  to  the  great  teacher.  The  accomplished 
Rudolph  Agricola,  in  his  time  rector  of  the  University  of  Heidel- 
berg, and  Johann  von  Daiberg,  the  cultured  bishop  of  Worms, 
celebrate  his  brilliant  gifts.1 

Chapter  /j. 
The  school  at  Deventer  has  been  of  great  value  to  the  reformed 
orders,  insomuch  as  it  has  supplied  them  with  many  educated 
and  scholarly  men.  So  long  as  the  school  preserved  its  merited 
reputation,  by  means  of  good,  thorough  instruction  and  funda- 
mental erudition,  its  graduates  were  everywhere  eagerly  sought. 
At  that  time  you  might  see  the  better-prepared  scholars  and  those 

1  Here  follow  selections  from  the  poems  of  eminent  humanists,  written  in 
honor  of  Hegius. 


96  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

best  grounded  in  the  humanities  streaming  into  the  orders  at 
Deventer  and  at  Zwoll;  and  the}'  were  superior  material  to  that 
which  I  now  find  in  the  first  and  second  classes;  although  at 
present  they  read,  it  is  true,  a  better  selection  of  authors  in  the 
schools  than  formerl)-.  For  I  have  heard  it  remarked,  that  out- 
side of  the  Parables  of  Alanus,  the  Morals  and  the  Ethics  of  Cato, 
the  Fables  of  ^Esop  and  a  few  writers  of  this  type,  for  whom  they 
have  very  little  respect  at  present,  it  was  seldom  that  anything 
else  was  read.  On  the  other  hand,  a  strong  effort  was  made  to 
broaden  the  student's  mind  by  means  of  an  inflexible  industry, 
which  yielded  not  to  the  greatest  difficulties.  Now,  however, 
when  all  secondary  schools,  even  the  least  important,  are  filled 
with  the  various  admirable  works  of  old  and  new  classical  writers, 
both  prose  and  poetry,  the  ardor  is  nevertheless  weakened,  and 
students  for  the  most  part  apply  themselves  to  their  work  like  the 
donkey  to  his  lyre,  as  the  Greeks  say,  5w}c  ~/J0?  x^vvy.  All-devour- 
ing time  permits  nothing  to  endure.  Hence  the  phenomenon 
that  the  orders  began  to  decline  as  the  school  approached  its 
downward  path.  Still,  since  the  reformation  of  the  orders,  which 
is  not  yet  a  hundred  years  old  in  any  cloister,  they  say  that  many 
men  of  intellect  have  been  sent  forth  from  this  school,  who  have 
been  received  and  provided  for  in  the  various  cloisters  of  this  sec- 
tion of  Germany. 

But  it  is  time  to  return  to  my  previous  narrative.  I  must  close 
with  what  I  have  already  said  of  Deventer;  moreover,  these  things 
are  well  known  to  those  who  have  devoted  themselves  to  the 
various  branches  of  learning,  and  have  laid  the  foundations  of  a 
wider  culture.  Many  such — with  joy  I  chronicle  the  fact- — share 
with  me  here  the  holy  service  and  bear  the  yoke  of  the  Lord. 
Some  have  returned  to  the  world's  turmoil.  But  this  digression, 
into  which  my  love  and  my  enthusiasm  for  the  times  gone  by  have 
led  me,  has  been  more  extensive  than  I  intended.  Let  us  fiually 
resume  the  course  of  our  narrative. 

Chapter  ij.. 
I  remained  a  half  year  in  the  fifth  class,  under  the  guidance  of 
an  excellent  man,  Master  Gottfried,  a  Baccalaureus  of  both  laws 
and  Master  of  Arts.  After  an  examination  I  rose  to  the  fourth 
class,  where  I  passed  a  year  under  the  industrious  and  well-in- 
structed Master  Johann  von  Venray,  and  with  his  permission,  al- 


JOHANNES    BUTZBACH.  97 

though  I  hardly  deserved  it,  I  came  into  the  third  class.  This  class 
was  at  that  time  under  the  charge  of  Master  Bartholomew  of 
Cologne,  an  unusually  industrious  and  learned  man.  His  writ- 
ings, as  well  in  prose  as  in  verse,  are  admired  by  the  greatest 
scholars  and  most  highly  praised  ;  for  he  is  a  man  of  fine,  broad 
mind,  and  of  wonderful  eloquence,  and  withal  distinguished  in 
many  branches  of  knowledge.  It  seemed  very  strange  to  everybody 
that  a  man  of  his  ability,  versed  in  all  departments  of  science, 
should  keep  to  his  studies,  like  a  perfect  ignoramus,  with  tireless 
industry  deep  into  the  night.  He  was  fond  of  industrious  pupils 
and  very  cheerfully  did  for  them  what  they  desired  ;  wherefore 
the  energetic  and  zealous  pupils,  so  far  as  I  know,  regarded  him 
with  so  much  love  that,  after  they  had  devoted  themselves  to 
philosophic  studies  for  several  years  in  succession  under  so  good  a 
master  and  reader,  and  finally  came  to  go  away,  they  could  hardly 
tear  themselves  from  him.  Although  he  indeed  deserved  it,  yet 
he  had  never  been  honored  by  any  university  with  the  master's 
degree.  For  this  reason  he  is  at  the  present  day  a  thorn  in  the 
side  of  many  blockheads,  who  are  proud  of  their  empty  titles,  and 
his  works  have  been  criticised  and  unfavorably  regarded  as  mere 
school  exercises.  In  the  meantime,  as  a  true  and  genuine  philos- 
opher, he  concerns  himself  not  at  all  with  such  people,  whose 
science  consists  merely  in  an  empty  title  and  certain  externals, 
like  a  camel  decked  in  purple.  It  is  indeed  better  to  possess  the 
reality  of  knowledge  than  an  empty  name.  What  is  a  name  with- 
out the  thing  itself?  Of  what  avail  are  titles  without  ability? 
What  avails  an  honor  without  the  capacity?  A  characterization 
without  the  fact  ?  Nowadays  when  any  one,  even  without  industry, 
has  gone  through  his  period  of  study,  whether  he  knows  anything 
of  the  essentials  or  not.  it  is  an  easy  thing  for  him,  by  means  of  a 
present,  to  acquire  the  bachelor's  degree,  or  the  dignity  of  master 
or  doctor.  Our  teacher  Bartholomew  for  his  part  held  to  the  ideas 
of  the  ancients;  he  despised  every  modern  usage,  and  valued  an 
earnest  career  of  study  more  than  empty  splendor.  A  cultured 
spirit  was  to  him  more  than  a  brow  bedecked.  What  value  has 
the  red  beretta,  when  within  the  spirit  is  shrouded  in  the  darkness 
of  ignorance?  In  any  case  knowledge  without  the  title  is  more  to 
be  valued  than  the  mere  title,  in  which  so  many  rejoice,  without 
the  knowledge.     But  of  this  I  have  more  to  say  elsewhere. 

When,  as  I  have  already  remarked,  I  came  to  this  highly  culti- 
7 


98  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE   GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

vated  philosopher  in  the  third  class,  I  made  up  ray  mind  to  remain 
until  Easter,  when  I  would  go  home  and  thence,  with  my  par- 
rents'  permission,  back  to  Johannesberg  in  the  Rheingau,  whence 
I  had  gone  forth,  at  my  mother's  urgent  request,  and  upon  the 
encouragement  of  the  brethren,  to  my  studies.  I  wished  to  see 
whether  I  might  assume  the  higher  garb  of  our  order,  instead  of 
that  humbler  garment,  which  I  had  put  aside,  and  be  received 
into  the  circle  of  the  fathers.  Scarcel}'  had  I  been  six  weeks  in  the 
class,  however,  when  it  happened  that  the  worthy  father  steward 
of  the  island  of  Niederwerth  near  Coblenz  came  to  Deventer. 
Besides  the  other  business  with  which  he  was  commissioned,  he  had 
been  requested  by  our  distinguished  lord,  the  Abbot  of  L,aach, 
to  bring  with  him  several  scholars,  who  were  willing  to  serve  the 
Lord  in  that  cloister,  of  which  he  had  been  already  ten  years  the 
head,  under  his  secure  guidance,  in  the  monkish  garb,  according 
to  the  rule.  When  he  had  presented  his  letters,  addressed  to  the 
rector,  he  also  expressed  his  solicitude  concerning  this  matter  in 
the  house  of  the  Brethren.  Moreover  in  other  towns  of  this 
region,  where  his  business  took  him,  he  made  careful  inquiries  in 
schools,  bursaries  and  brotherhood  houses,  as  well  as  with  private 
citizens  ;  seeking  young  clerks,  so-Galled,  endowed  with  a  suffi- 
cient knowledge  of  the  sciences,  and  disposed  to  leave  their 
further  study  for  the  sake  of  God's  service,  in  order  to  devote 
themselves  to  the  life  of  the  cloister  and  to  the  investigation  of 
holy  writ.  Something  like  three  weeks  elapsed,  and  as  yet  he 
had  found  no  one  who  wished  to  accept  his  offer.  Returning 
to  Deventer,  he  considered  it  advisable  to  seek  the  cooperation  of 
the  rector,  Master  Ostendorp,  who,  as  an  eloquent  and  learned 
man,  had  succeeded  the  aforesaid  Alexander  in  the  government 
of  the  school.  Master  Ostendorp  came  at  once  to  the  third  and 
fourth  classes,  and  sought  with  eloquent  words,  such  as  stood  to 
his  command,  to  awaken  enthusiasm  among  the  scholars  for  the 
monastic  life.  First  he  spoke  in  praise  of  the  Benedictines,  then 
he  spoke  in  terms  of  highest  approbation  of  the  abbe)'  of  L,aach, 
as  well  as  of  the  merit  of  its  abbot.  But  all  effort  seemed  in  vain, 
so  far  as  the  scholars  were  concerned,  for  the  lectures  had  already 
begun,  and  the  auditors  were  inscribed  with  their  new  instructors. 
In  man}-  cases  the  lessons  of  the  new  classes  had  been  begun,  and 
the  honoraria  already  discharged  to  the  new  instructors  for  the 
semester,  and  it  was  thought  shameful  and  unbecoming  to  demand 


THOMAS   PLATTER.  99 

these  back  from  the  rector  and  from  the  professors.  More,  ver, 
each  one  had  already  made  his  provision  for  food  and  lodging, 
and  did  not  care  to  let  these  things  go.  Furthermore,  it  was  an 
unsuitable  time  for  traveling  ;  a  very  great  cold  prevailed,  which 
frightened  everyone  from  the  project. 

{Butzbach  hoivever,  afler  much  deliberation,  accepted  the  offer  and 
made  the  tedious  winter  journey  up  the  Rhine  to  Laach,  of  which 
abbey  he  eventually  became  the  head.) 

THOMAS  PLATTER.1 

Thomas  Platter,  1 499-1 582,  affords  another  example  of  the  strong  general 
impulse  toward  intellectual  advancement  which  characterized  the  eve  of  the 
Protestant  Reformation  in  Germany.  Born  in  Switzerland,  in  the  canton  of 
Wallis,  Platter  obtained  the  rudiments  of  his  education  at  Schlettstadt,  in 
the  upper  Rhine  country.  Successively  rope-maker,  proofreader,  publisher 
and  finally  chosen  rector  of  the  city  school  of  Zurich,  Platter,  like  Butzbach, 
ever  displayed  an  ardor  in  the  pursuit  of  learning,  which  no  obstacles  nor 
temporary  interruptions  of  his  course  of  study  were  able  to  extinguish. 
Led  awa)'  in  childhood  upon  a  course  of  mendicancy  and  thievery,  he  came 
unscathed  through  these  adverse  experiences,  retaining  only  an  inflexible 
desire  for  that  culture  of  which  his  wanderings  had  afforded  so  meagre  a 
foretaste.  A  follower  of  the  Zurich  reformer,  Platter  took  an  active  part  in 
the  struggles  of  the  Zwinglian  party,  became  one  of  the  leaders  in  Swiss 
Protestant  life,  and  died  full  of  years  and  honors. 

THE  BACCHANTENSCHUTZ. 

When  they  would  no  longer  let  me  herd  the  goats  I  went  to  a 
farmer  who  had  married  one  of  my  cousins,  a  miserly  and  ill- 
tempered  man.  I  had  to  herd  his  cows,  for  in  most  places  in 
Wallis  there  were  no  common  cow-herds  ;  and  whoever  had  no 
mountain  pasture,  whither  he  might  conduct  his  cattle  in  sum- 
mer, kept  a  herder  for  them,  who  pastured  them  011  his  em- 
ployer's property.  After  I  had  been  there  for  a  while  my  cousin 
Fransy  came,  and  wished  to  take  me  to  my  cousin,  Master  Autoni 
Platter,  in  order  that  I  might  learn  my  letters,  as  they  say,  when 
they  put  anyone  in  school.  This  cousin  Autoni  was  no  longer 
stationed  at  Grenchen,  but  at  the  church  of  St.  Nicholas,  in  the  vil- 
lage they  call  Gasseu.  When  the  farmer,  who  was  called  Antscho 
(that  is  Autoni)  an  der  Habzueht,  heard  my  cousin's  intention,  he- 
was  much  dissatisfied.     He  said  I  would  learn  nothing  ;  and  put- 

1  Thomas  und  Felix  Platter,  bearbeitet  von  II.  Boos.     Leipzig,  1S78. 


IOO  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE    GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

ting  the  index  finger  of  his  right  hand  into  the  palm  of  his  left, 
he  added:  "  He  will  no  more  learn  than  I  can  poke  my  finger 
through  my  palm."  I  saw  and  heard  this.  Then  my  cousin 
replied  :  "  But  who  can  say  ?  God  has  not  denied  him  gifts.  He 
might  become  an  excellent  priest."  So  she  took  me  to  the 
master.  I  was,  I  think,  about  nine  or  nine  and  a  half  years  old. 
At  first  it  was  very  unpleasant  for  me,  because  the  master  was  a 
high-tempered  man,  and  I  an  awkward  peasant  lad.  He  beat  me 
savagery,  seized  me  often  by  the  ears  and  drew  me  from  the 
hearth,  so  that  I  shrieked  like  a  goat  with  the  knife  at  his  throat, 
and  the  neighbors  often  cried  out  against  him,  that  he  would 
murder  me. 

I  did  not  stay  long  with  him.  About  this  time  there  came 
along  another  cousin,  who  had  been  away  to  school  in  Ulm  and 
Munich  in  Bavaria.  He  was  a  Summermatter,  son  of  my  old 
grandfather's  son.  This  student  was  named  Paulus  Summer- 
matter.  When  my  relatives  spoke  to  him  of  me,  he  promised  to 
take  me  with  him  and  put  me  to  school  in  Germany.  As  I 
learned  of  this  I  fell  upon  my  knees  and  prayed  to  God  the  al- 
mighty, that  he  would  deliver  me  from  the  parson,  who  had  taught 
me  just  nothing  at  all,  but  had  beat  me  sore  ;  for  all  I  had 
learned  was  to  sing  the  Salve  for  eggs,  along  with  other  pupils, 
who  were  also  at  the  parson's,  in  the  village.  One  time  we 
thought  we  would  perform  a  mass  ;  so  the  other  youngsters  sent 
me  into  the  church  for  a  candle,  which  I  stuck  all  lighted  into  my 
sleeve,  and  burned  me,  so  that  I  bear  the  mark  of  it  to  this  day. 

When  the  time  came  for  Paulus  to  set  out  again  upon  his 
wanderings,  I  was  to  join  him  at  Stalden.  Near  Stalden  is  a 
house  called  "  The  Miihlbach."  There  dwelt  a  man,  called  Simon 
zu  der  Summermatter,  my  mother's  brother,  who  was  supposed  to 
be  my  guardian.  He  gave  me  a  golden  florin,  which  I  carried  in 
my  hand  all  the  way  to  Stalden,  and  often  on  the  way  I  looked  to 
see  if  I  still  had  it ;  and  there  I  gave  it  over  to  Paulus,  and  thus 
we  went  forth  from  home. 

I  had  to  beg  now  for  myself  and  also  to  provide  for  my  bacchant, 
Paulus  ;  and  an  account  of  my  simpleness  and  rustic  speech  people 
gave  me  freely.  When  at  evening  we  crossed  the  Grimsel  mountain 
and  came  to  an  inn,  I  saw  there  for  the  first  time  an  earthenware 
stove.  The  moon  was  shining  on  the  tiles  of  the  stove  and  I 
thought  it  was  a  great  calf,  for  I  saw  only  the  two  tiles,  and  these 


THOMAS   PLATTER.  IOI 

I  took  for  its  ej'es.  Next  morning  I  saw  some  geese,  which  I  had 
never  seen  before,  and  when  they  hissed  at  me  I  thought  it  was 
the  devil,  and  that  he  would  eat  me  up  ;  and  I  fled  screaming. 
At  Lucerne  I  saw  tiled  roofs  for  the  first  time,  and  I  marvelled  at 
the  red  roofs.  We  came  thence  to  Zurich,  where  Paulus  waited  for 
certain  companions,  who  were  to  journey  with  us  toward  Meissen. 
In  the  meantime  I  went  begging  and  completely  provided  Paulus' 
support,  for  whenever  I  entered  an  inn  the  people  were  pleased  to 
hear  me  speak  the  dialect  of  Wallis  and  willingly  gave  to  me.  At 
that  time  there  was  a  certain  man  in  Zurich,  who  came  from 
Wallis  stock,  an  eccentric  man,  Karle  by  name,  who  was  generally 
thought  to  be  an  exorcist ;  for  he  knew  at  all  times  what  was  go- 
ing on  here  and  there.  He  was  well  known  to  the  Cardinal.  This 
Karle  came  to  me  (for  we  had  taken  lodgings  at  a  certain  house), 
and  said  that  if  I  would  let  him  give  me  a  certain  number  of  stripes 
on  my  bare  back,  he  would  give  me  a  Zurich  piece  of  six.  I 
allowed  myself  to  be  persuaded,  and  he  seized  me  fast,  laid  me 
across  a  chair  and  lashed  me  well.  When  I  was  done  smarting  he 
begged  of  me  I  should  lend  him  the  money  back  again  ;  he 
wished  to  sup  with  a  lady,  aud  was  in  need  of  a  piece  of  six  to 
pay  the  bill.     I  gave  him  the  money,  aud  never  saw  it  again. 

After  we  had  waited  from  eight  to  nine  weeks  for  our  com- 
panions, we  set  out  for  Meissen.  Forme  it  was  a  long  journey, 
for  I  was  not  accustomed  to  go  so  far,  and  moreover  I  had  to  look 
out  for  our  subsistence  on  the  way.  We  set  out  then,  eight  or 
nine  of  us  together,  three  little  schiitzen,  the  rest  big  bacchant  en, 
as  they  were  called,  among  whom  I  was  the  smallest  and  the 
youngest  schiltze  of  all.  When  I  did  not  travel  briskly  enough, 
my  cousin  Paulus,  who  walked  behind,  pricked  up  my  paces  with 
a  switch  or  a  stick,  laid  upon  my  bare  legs;  for  I  had  no  hose  and 
my  shoes  were  worn  out. 

I  can  recollect  no  longer  all  that  happened  to  us  on  the  way  ; 
but  some  things  I  remember.  While  all  sorts  of  things  were 
being  discussed  as  we  marched  along,  the  bacchanten  remarked 
to  each  other  that  it  was  the  custom  in  Meissen  and  Silesia  to 
permit  scholars  to  steal  geese  and  ducks  and  other  things  to  eat, 
and  that  nothing  would  be  done  to  them,  unless  they  allowed 
themselves  to  be  taken  by  the  one  to  whom  the  property  belonged. 
One  day,  not  far  from  a  village  we  saw  a  great  flock  of  geese,  un- 
accompanied by  the  goosedierd  (for  each  village  has  its  especial 


102  SOURCE-BOOK    OF  THE    GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

goose-herd),  who  was  quite  a  distance  away  in  company  with  the 
cow-herd.  Thereupon  I  asked  of  my  companions,  the  schutzen  : 
"When  shall  we  be  in  Meissen,  where  I  may  kill  geese?"  They 
said,  "  We  are  there  now."  Then  I  took  a  stone,  threw  at  a  goose 
and  hit  it  on  the  leg.  The  other  geese  flew  away;  the  lame  one, 
however,  could  not  follow.  Then  I  took  another  stone  and  hit  it 
on  the  head,  so  that  it  fell  ;  for  I  had  learned  the  art  of  throwing 
stones  while  I  was  herding  goats,  so  that  no  herder  of  my  age 
could  surpass  me  ;  and  I  could  blow  the  herder's  horn  and  leap 
with  poles,  for  I  had  exercised  these  arts  among  my  fellow  herders. 
Then  I  ran  up  to  the  goose,  siezed  it  by  the  neck,  stuck  it  under 
my  coat  and  went  on  through  the  village.  But  the  goose-herd 
came  running  after  me  and  cried:  "The  boy  has  stolen  one  of 
my  geese  !  "  I  and  my  fellow  schutzen  with  me  took  to  our  heels, 
and  the  goose's  feet  were  sticking  out  from  under  my  jacket.  The 
peasants  came  on  with  spears,  which  they  knew  how  to  throw, 
and  followed  close  upon  us.  When  I  saw  that  I  could  not  escape 
with  the  goose,  I  let  it  drop.  Beyond  the  village  I  sprang  aside 
from  the  road  into  the  bushes,  but  two  of  my  companions,  who 
kept  to  the  road,  were  overhauled  by  the  peasants.  They  fell 
upon  their  knees  and  begged  for  mercy,  saying  they  had  done 
them  no  harm  ;  and  when  the  peasants  saw  that  none  of  them 
had  let  the  goose  drop,  they  went  back  into  the  village,  taking  the 
goose  with  them.  When  I  saw,  however,  how  they  pursued  my 
companions,  I  was  in  deep  distress.  I  said  to  myself:  "Good 
heavens,  I  surely  think  I  have  not  said  my  prayers  to-day  !  "  For 
I  had  been  taught  to  say  my  prayers  every  morning.  When  the 
peasants  returned  to  the  village  they  found  our  bacchantc?i  at  the 
inn  ;  for  they  had  gone  on  ahead,  and  we  were  following.  The 
peasants  were  of  the  opinion  that  they  should  pay  for  the  goose  ; 
it  was  a  matter  of  twTo  pence.  I  do  not  know  whether  they  paid 
or  not,  but  when  they  came  back  to  us,  they  laughed  and  asked  us 
how  we  had  fared.  I  tried  to  excuse  myself  on  the  ground  that 
it  was  the  custom  of  the  country  ;  but  they  said,  the  time  for  that 
had  not  yet  come. 

On  another  occasion  a  murderer  came  upon  us  in  a  wood,  eleven 
miles  this  side  of  Nuremberg,  when  we  happened  to  be  all  to- 
gether. He  sought  to  trifle  with  our  bacchanten,  in  order  to  detain 
us  until  his  companions  came  together.  We  had  with  us  at  that 
time  an  honest  fellow,  by  name  Anton i  Schallbetter,  from  Visperze- 


THOMAS    PLATTER.  103 

hendeu  in  Wallis,  who  feared  no  four  or  five,  as  he  had  often 
shown  in  Nuremberg  and  Munich,  and  in  many  other  places.  He 
threatened  the  murderer,  ordering  him  to  get  out  of  the  way  ;  and 
he  did  so.  It  was  so  late,  however,  that  we  could  only  reach  the 
nearest  village.  There  were  two  inns,  but  few  houses  beside. 
When  we  entered  one  of  the  inns,  the  murderer  was  there  before 
us,  and  still  others,  without  doubt  his  companions.  We  would 
not  stay  there,  and  went  to  the  other  inn,  but  they  came  thither 
also.  At  supper  time  the  people  of  the  house  were  so  busy  that 
the}7  would  give  us  little  fellows  nothing  to  eat,  for  we  never  sat 
at  table  with  our  bacchanten.  Nor  would  they  give  us  any  bed, 
but  we  must  lie  in  the  stables.  When,  however,  they  were  con- 
ducting the  big  fellows  to  bed,  Antoni  said  to  the  host :  "  Host,  it 
seems  to  me  you  have  rather  unusual  guests,  and  that  you  your- 
self are  not  much  better.  I  tell  you,  landlord,  you  had  better  put 
us  where  we  shall  be  safe,  or  we  will  kick  up  such  a  row  for  5rou,  that 
your  house  will  not  be  big  enough  to  hold  it."  For  the  rascals 
made  every  effort  to  engage  our  fellows  in  a  game  of  chess,  a  thing 
which  I  had  never  heard  of  before.  Then  they  were  shown  to  bed, 
and  I,  with  the  other  little  fellows,  were  sent  to  lie  supperless  in  the 
stables.  There  came  in  the  night  certain  ones,  the  host  himself  with 
them  very  likely,  to  the  chamber  door,  and  sought  to  open  it. 
Now  Antoni  had  set  a  screw  against  the  lock  upon  the  inner  side 
and  rolled  the  bed  against  the  door  and  made  a  light ;  for  he  al- 
ways carried  candles  and  flint  and  steel  with  him  ;  and  quickly  he 
wakened  his  companions.  When  the  rascals  heard  this,  they  went 
away.  Next  morning  we  found  neither  host  nor  servant.  This  is 
the  story  they  told  to  us  boys.  We  were  all  rejoiced  that  nothing 
had  happened  to  us  in  the  stable.  After  we  had  gone  a  good  mile, 
we  met  with  people,  who,  when  they  heard  where  we  had  passed 
the  night,  expressed  their  surprise  that  we  had  not  all  been 
murdered,  for  the  entire  village  has  the  reputation  of  being  a 
murderers'  den. 

About  a  quarter  of  a  mile  this  side  of  Naumburg  our  big  fellows 
remained  behind  in  a  village  ;  for  when  they  wished  to  feast, 
they  sent  us  on  ahead.  There  were  five  of  us.  Then  rode  eight 
men  out  of  the  open  country  upon  us  with  cross  hows  spanned, 
and  demanded  money,  and  turned  their  bolts  upon  us  ;  for  as  yet 
no  one  bore  firearms  on  horseback.  Then  one  of  them  said  : 
"Give  us  money  !"     One  of  us,  who  was  pretty  well  grown,  re- 


104  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE   GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

plied:  "  We  have  no  money  ;  we  are  poor  scholars."  A  second 
time  he  cried  :  "Give  us  money!"  But  our  companion  said: 
"  We  have  no  money,  and  will  give  you  no  money,  nor  do  we  owe 
you  any."  Then  the  horseman  drew  his  sword,  and  aimed  a  blow 
at  his  head,  so  that  he  severed  the  cord  that  held  his  pack.  Our 
comrade  was  called  Johannes  von  Schalen,  and  was  from  the  vil- 
lage of  Visp.  Then  they  rode  away  into  a  wood,  but  we  set  off  for 
"Naumburg.  Soon  our  bacchanten  came  along  ;  they  had  not  seen 
the  rascals.  We  have  often  at  other  times  been  in  danger  from 
horsemen  and  murderers,  both  in  the  forest  of  Thuriugia,  in 
Fraucouia  and  in  Poland. 

At  Naumburg  we  remained  several  weeks.  We  schutzen  went 
into  the  city.  Some,  who  could  sing,  went  singing,  but  I  went 
begging.  We  attended  no  school,  and  the  others  would  not 
suffer  this,  but  threatened  to  force  us  to  go  to  school.  The 
school-master  also  ordered  our  bacchanten  to  go  to  school,  or  they 
would  be  arrested.  Antoni  sent  him  word  to  come  ahead  ;  and 
since  there  were  several  Swiss  there,  they  let  us  know  what  day 
they  were  coming,   so  that  we  should  not  be  taken  unawares. 

Then  we  little  schutzen  carried  stones  up  to  the  roof,  while 
Antoni  and  the  others  held  the  doors.  When  the  school-master 
came  with  his  whole  following  of  schutzen  and  bacchanten,  we 
youngsters  threw  stones  upon  them,  so  that  they  gave  way. 
Thereupon  we  learned  that  we  had  been  complained  of  before  the 
city  authorities.  We  had  a  neighbor,  who  was  about  to  give  his 
daughter  a  husband.  He  had  a  pen  full  of  fat  geese,  of  which 
we  took  three  by  night  and  retired  to  another  quarter  of  the  town. 
It  was  a  suburb,  but  without  walls,  as  indeed  was  the  place 
where  we  had  formerly  been.  There  the  Swiss  joined  us,  and 
they  feasted  together.  Then  our  fellows  w7ent  to  Halle  in  Saxony, 
and  we  entered  the  school  at  St.  Ulrich's. 

There,  however,  our  bacchanten  used  us  so  shamefully  that  sev- 
eral of  us  conspired  with  my  cousin  Paulus,  with  the  intention  of 
running  away  from  the  bacchanten.  In  this  manner  we  came  to 
Dresden;  but  there  were  no  good  schools  there,  and  our  sleeping- 
rooms  wyere  so  full  of  vermin,  that  at  night  we  could  hear  them 
crawling  under  us  in  the  straw. 

Again  we  got  under  way  and  came  to  Breslau.  On  the  way  we 
suffered  much  from  hunger,  so  that  often  we  had  nothing  to  eat 
but  raw  onions  with  salt,   often    for   several  days   only   roasted 


THOMAS    PLATTER.  105 

acorns,  wild  apples  and  pears.  Many  a  night  we  lay  under  the 
open  sky,  when  no  one  would  suffer  us  to  enter  his  house,  how- 
ever politely  we  begged  for  lodging  ;  sometimes  they  set  the  dogs 
upon  us.  In  Breslau,  however,  everything  was  abundant;  so 
cheap,  indeed,  that  the  poor  scholars  overate  and  often  fell  into 
serious  illness.  At  first  we  went  to  the  school  in  the  cathedral  of 
the  Holy  Cross.  When,  however,  we  learned  that  there  were 
some  Swiss  in  the  upper  parish  of  St.  Elizabeth,  we  went  thither. 
There  were  two  from  Bremgarten,  two  from  Mellingen  and  others, 
and  many  Swabians  as  well  ;  there  was  no  distinction  made 
between  Swabians  and  Swiss.  We  addressed  each  other  as  com- 
patriots and  protected  each  other. 

The  city  of  Breslau  has  seven  parishes,  and  each  parish  has  a 
separate  school.  No  scholar  is  permitted  to  sing  in  another  parish 
than  his  own,  or  they  cry,  Ad  idem  !  ad  idem  !  and  the  sckutzen 
rush  together  and  fight  fiercely.  There  are  said  to  have  been  sev- 
eral thousand  bacchanten  and  schulzen  in  the  city  at  one  time,  all 
of  whom  were  supported  with  alms  ;  some  had  been  there  froxn 
twenty  to  thirty  years  and  even  longer,  and  they  had  their 
schulzen,  who  begged  for  them.  I  have  often  of  an  evening 
carried  five  or  six  loads  to  my  bacchanten  at  the  school  where 
the)'  dwelt.  People  gave  very  willingly  to  me,  because  I  was 
small  and  a  Swiss  ;  for  they  were  very  fond  of  the  Swiss.  There 
was  great  sympathy  for  the  Swiss,  because  at  this  time  they  had 
fared  ill  in  the  battle  of  Milan,  '  wherefore  it  was  the  custom  to 
say,  "The  Swiss  have  lost  their  good  luck;"  for  previously  it 
was  the  belief  that  they  were  well  nigh  insuperable. 

One  da\-  at  the  market-place  I  met  two  gentlemen  or  squires, 
and  later  on  I  learned  that  one  of  these  was  named  Berzenauer 
and  the  other  Fugger.  As  they  were  walking  by,  I  begged  for 
alms,  as  was  the  custom  with  the  poor  scholars.  The  Fugger  said 
to  me,  "Whence  come  you,"  and  when  he  heard  that  I  was  Swiss, 
he  spoke  aside  with  Benzenauer  and  then  said  to  me:  "If  you 
are  really  Swiss,  I  will  adopt  you  and  sign  the  papers  before  the 
authorities  here  in  Breslau  ;  but  you  must  bind  yourself  to  remain 
with  me  all  your  life  long,  and  to  attend  me  wherever  I  may  he." 
I  replied  :  "  I  have  been  entrusted  to  the  care  of  a  certain  person 
from  home,  and  I  will  speak  to  him  about  it."     When,  however, 

'Marignar.o,  September,  1515. 


106  SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE    GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

I  mentioned  the  matter  to  my  cousin  Paulus,  he  said;  "I  have 
brought  you  from  home  and  it  is  my  intention  to  turn  you  over 
again  to  your  own  people  ;  what  they  tell  you  to  do,  that  you  can 
do."  So  I  declined  the  Fugger's  offer,  but  as  often  as  I  went  to 
his  house  his  people  did  not  permit  me  to  come  away  empty- 
handed. 

There  I  remained  a  long  time:  One  winter  I  was  sick  three 
times,  so  that  I  had  to  be  taken  to  the  hospital.  The  scholars 
have  their  special  hospital  and  their  own  physician.  The  city 
gives  sixteen  heller  a  wyeek  for  each  scholar,  and  this  answers  very 
nicely.  They  have  good  care  and  good  beds  too,  but  there  are  so 
many  insects  that  I  preferred  to  lie  in  the  common  room,  or,  as 
many  did,  on  the  stove.  The  scholars  and  bacchanten,  indeed  the 
ordinary  men,  in  many  cases  are  so  full  of  vermin  that  it  is  beyond 
belief.  Many  a  time,  especially  in  summer,  I  went  out  to  the 
Oder,  which  flows  by  the  city,  washed  my  shirt  and  hung  it  up 
on  a  bush  to  dry;  meanwhile  I  picked  the  vermin  from  my  coat, 
dug  a  hole  in  the  ground,  threw  a  handful  of  lice  into  it,  covered 
them  up  with  earth  and  set  a  cross  upon  the  place.  In  the  winter 
the  schiitzen  lay  upon  the  stove  in  the  school;  the  bacchanten,  how- 
ever, slept  in  their  cells,  of  which  there  were  several  hundred  at 
St.  Elizabeth  ;  in  summer,  however,  when  the  weather  was  warm, 
we  slept  in  the  churchyard,  collecting  the  grass,  which  in  summer 
the}'  spread  in  front  of  the  houses  in  the  fine  streets  on  Sunday. 
This  we  carried  to  the  churchyard,  heaped  it  together  in  a  corner, 
and  there  we  lay  like  pigs  in  straw;  but  wdien  it  rained,  we  ran 
into  the  school,  and  during  thunder  showers  we  sang  responses 
and  other  offices  with  the  chanter  almost  the  whole  night  through. 
Once  in  a  while  after  supper  in  summer  we  went  begging  in  the 
beer-houses.  The  drunken  Polacks  gave  us  so  much  beer  that  I 
often  unwittingly  became  drunk,  so  that  I  could  not  get  back  to 
the  school,  although  I  was  only  a  stone's  throw  away.  On  the 
whole  there  was  enough  to  eat  in  Breslau,  but  not  much  study- 
ing. 

In  the  school  at  St.  Elizabeth  nine  bachelors  lectured  at  the 
same  time  in  one  room;  of  Greek  there  was  no  trace  anywhere  in 
that  part  of  the  country;  moreover,  no  one  had  any  printed 
books,  except  the  teacher,  who  had  a  printed  Terence.  What- 
ever was  presented  had  to  be  dictated  in  the  first  place,  then 
analyzed,  then  construed,  and  at  length  expounded;  so  that  the 
bacchanten  had  loads  of  trash  to  carry  when  they  went  home. 


THOMAS    PLATTER.  107 

Thence  eight  of  us  went  on  to  Dresden.  We  suffered  greatly 
from  hunger  on  the  way.  One  day  we  determined  to  divide  our 
forces;  certain  ones  should  go  after  geese,  others  after  turnips  and 
onions,  one  should  bring  a  pot,  and  we  little  ones  were  to  go  to 
the  town  of  Neumarkt,  which  la}-  not  far  away  upon  our  road, 
and  procure  bread  and  salt.  At  evening  we  were  to  come  to- 
gether outside  the  town,  and  cook  whatever  we  had  collected. 
About  a  rifle-shot  distance  from  the  town  was  a  spring,  where  we 
intended  to  spend  the  night.  When  the  people  in  the  town  saw  the 
fire,  however,  they  came  out,  but  did  not  find  us  there;  we  took  to 
our  heels  behind  a  ridge  of  ground  toward  a  pond  in  the  woods. 
The  big  fellows  piled  up  bushes  and  made  a  hut;  some  of  us 
plucked  the  geese,  of  which  we  had  two,  while  others  prepared 
the  turnips  for  the  pot,  and  put  therein  the  heads  and  feet  and 
entrails  of  the  geese;  still  others  made  two  wooden  spits  and  be- 
gan to  roast  the  geese,  and  as  soon  as  they  were  a  little  reddened 
with  the  heat  we  took  them  from  the  spit  and  ate  them;  and  the 
turnips  as  well.  In  the  night  we  heard  a  noise;  near-by  was  a 
fish-pond;  during  the  day  the  water  had  been  drained  off,  and  the 
fish  were  leaping  in  the  mud.  We  gathered  up  the  fish,  as  many 
as  we  could  carry  in  a  shirt  fastened  to  a  staff,  and  went  hence  to 
a  village.  There  we  gave  one  fish  to  a  peasant,  on  condition  that 
he  should  cook  the  others  in  beer  for  us. 

When  finally  we  came  to  Dresden,  the  schoolmaster  and  our 
bacchanten  sent  some  of  us  boys  forth  to  look  about  for  geese. 
We  agreed  that  I  should  throw  at  the  geese,  while  the  others 
were  to  get  them  and  carry  them  away.  After  we  had  found  a 
flock  of  geese,  and  they  had  caught  sight  of  us,  they  flew  away; 
then  I  threw  a  little  club  which  I  had  with  me  up  under  them  as 
they  flew,  and  struck  one  of  them,  so  that  it  fell  to  the  -round. 
But  my  companions  saw  the  gooseherd  and  dared  not  run  for  it, 
although  they  had  considerably  the  start  of  the  herder.  Then 
the  other  geese  flew  down  and  surrounded  the  wounded  goose  and 
gabbled  as  though  they  were  speaking  to  it;  and  it  stood  up 
again  and  went  away  with  the  others.  I  was  vexed  with  my 
comrades,  that  the}r  had  not  carried  out  their  promises;  but  we 
did  better  after  that,  for  we  brought  home  two  geese.  These  the 
bacchayiten  ate  with  the  schoolmaster  at  a  farewell  feast.  Thence 
we  set  out  for  Nuremberg  and  further  on  to  Munich. 

On  the  way,  not  far  from  Dresden,  it  happened  that  I  went  beg- 


IOS  SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE   GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

ging  into  a  village  and  came  up  to  a  peasant's  house.  The  peas- 
ant asked  me  who  I  was  ;  and  when  he  heard  that  I  was  a  Swiss, 
he  asked  if  I  had  not  comrades  who  were  also  Swiss.  I  said  : 
"  My  comrades  are  waiting  for  me  outside  the  village."  Then  he 
answered  :  "  Tell  them  to  come!  "  He  prepared  a  good  meal  for 
us  and  gave  us  plenty  of  beer.  When  we  were  quite  comfortable 
and  the  peasant  with  us,  he  said  to  his  mother,  who  lay  on  the  bed 
in  the  common  room  :  "  Mother,  I  have  heard  you  say,  you  wanted 
very  much  to  see  a  Swiss  before  you  died  ;  now  here  you  see  sev- 
eral of  them  ;  for  I  have  invited  them  on  your  account."  Then  the 
mother  raised  herself,  thanked  her  son  for  the  guests  and  said  :  "  I 
have  heard  so  main-  good  things  said  about  the  Swiss,  that  I  was 
very  anxious  to  see  one.  It  seems  to  me  I  shall  now  die  that 
much  easier  ;  therefore  make  merry!"  and  she  lay  down  again. 
We  thanked  the  peasant  and  departed. 

As  we  came  near  Munich  it  was  too  late  to  see  the  city,  so  we 
had  to  spend  the  night  in  the  lazaretto.  When  on  the  following 
morning  we  came  to  the  city  gate,  they  would  not  admit  us  ;  we 
had,  however,  an  acquaintance  in  the  city.  Whom  we  gave  as  refer- 
ence. My  cousin  Paulus,  who  had  been  in  Munich  before,  was 
permitted  to  look  this  man  up,  with  whom  he  had  lodged  on  the 
occasion  of  his  former  visit.  He  came  and  went  security  for  us, 
and  then  they  let  us  in.  Paulus  and  I  went  to  the  house  of  a 
soap-boiler,  named  Hans  Schrall,  who  had  taken  his  master's 
degree  at  Vienna,  but  was  an  enemy  to  priestcraft.  He  had  married 
a  beautiful  girl,  with  whom  he  came,  many  years  later,  to  Basel, 
wdiere  he  worked  at  his  trade  ;  and  main-  people  here  know  him. 
I  helped  this  master  boil  soap  more  than  I  went  to  school ;  went 
with  him  to  the  villages,  buying  ashes.  Paulus,  however,  went 
to  school  in  the  parish  of  Our  Lady  and  so  did  I,  but  rarely, 
merely  because  I  had  to  sing  for  bread  through  the  streets  and 
support  my  bacchant,  Paulus.  The  woman  of  the  house  was  very 
fond  of  me  ;  she  had  an  old  blind  black  dog,  and  it  was  my  task 
to  feed  him,  make  his  bed  and  lead  him  into  the  court.  She  al- 
ways said  :  "  Tommy,  take  the  best  care  of  my  doggy  ;  you  wou't 
be  any  the  worse  for  it."  When  we  had  been  there  a  time,  Paulus 
began  to  get  too  friendly  with  the  maid.  This  the  master  would 
not  permit.  Then  Paulus  determined  that  we  should  go  home, 
for  we  had  not  been  at  home  in  five  years.  So  homeward  we 
turned  toward  Wallis.    My  friends  there  could  scarcely  understand 


THOMAS    PLATTER.  IO9 

me  ;  the}'  said  :  "  Our  Tommy  speaks  so  strangely  that  scarcely 
anybody  can  understand  him  ;"  for  I  was  young  then,  and  had 
learned  a  little  of  the  speech  of  every  place  where  I  had  stopped  a 
while.  In  the  meanwhile  my  mother  had  taken  another  husband, 
for  Heinzmann  am  Grund  was  dead  ;  at  the  end  of  her  period  of 
mourning  she  had  married  Thomas  an  Garstern.  On  this  account 
I  could  not  be  with  her  much,  but  spent  most  of  my  time  with  my 
cousins,  especially  with  my  cousin  Simon  Summermatter  and  my 
cousin  Fransy. 

A  little  later  we  set  out  again  and  came  to  Ulm.  Paulus  took 
still  another  boy  with  him,  named  Hildebrand  Kalbermatter,  a 
parson's  son  ;  he  too  was  very  young.  They  gave  him  some 
cloth,  such  as  was  made  in  the  country,  enough  for  a  coat.  When 
we  came  to  Ulm,  Paulus  had  me  go  about  with  the  cloth  and 
solicit  the  money  for  making  it  up.  In  this  way  I  got  a  good 
deal  of  money,  for  I  was  an  expert  at  flattery  and  begging,  and 
for  this  reason  the  bacchanten  had  used  me  for  this  purpose  from 
the  beginning,  and  would  not  let  me  go  to  school,  nor  even  learn 
to  read.  There  at  Ulm  I  seldom  went  to  school,  and  at  first, 
when  I  ought  to  have  been  going,  I  went  about  with  the  cloth, 
and  suffered  greatly  from  hunger  ;  for  everything  that  I  obtained 
I  brought  home  to  the  bacchanten.  I  dared  not  eat  a  morsel,  for 
I  feared  a  beating.  Paulus  had  associated  with  him  another 
bacchant,  Achatius  by  name,  a  Mainzer  by  birth.  My  comrade 
and  I  had  to  support  them  with  begging,  but  Hildebrand  ate 
almost  everything.  Therefore  they  used  to  follow  him  through 
the  streets,  in  order  to  catch  him  eating,  or  they  made  him  rinse 
his  mouth  with  water  and  spit  it  out  into  a  dish,  so  that  they  could 
see  if  he  had  eaten  anything.  Then  they  threw  him  upon  a  bed, 
placed  a  pillow  upon  his  head,  so  that  he  could  not  cry  out,  and 
they  beat  him,  these  two  bacchanten,  until  they  could  beat  him  no 
longer.  Wherefore  I  was  afraid  and  brought  everything  h  me. 
Often  they  had  so  much  bread  that  it  moulded  ;  then  they  cut  oil 
the  mouldy  part  and  gave  it  to  us  to  eat.  I  have  often  suffered 
severely  from  hunger,  and  from  cold  as  well,  lor  I  had  to  go 
about  in  the  darkness  until  midnight  and  sing  for  bread. 

I  must  not  forget  to  relate  that  there  was  a  kind  widow  living 
at  Ulm,  who  had  two  unmarried  daughters  and  one  son,  Paulus 
Reling,  who  was  also  unmarried.  Often  in  winter  the  widow 
wrapped  my  feet  in  a  warm  piece  of  fur,  which    she  put  behind 


IIO  SOURCE-BOOK    OF   THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

the  stove,  so  that  she  could  warm  my  feet  when  I  came.  She 
gave  me  then  a  dish  of  porridge  and  sent  me  home.  I  have  been 
so  hungry  that  I  have  driven  the  dogs  from  bones  and  gnawed  at 
them,  and  I  have  sought  and  eaten  out  of  the  garbage. 

Thence  we  went  again  to  Munich.  There  I  was  obliged  again 
to  beg  for  money  to  make  up  the  cloth,  which,  however,  was  not 
mine.  A  year  later  we  returned  to  Ultn,  with  the  intention  of 
turning  again  toward  home.  I  brought  the  cloth  back  with  me, 
and  begged  again  for  the  price  of  making.  I  distinctly  remember 
that  certain  persons  said  to  me:  "Good  heavens,  is  that  coat 
not  made  yet?  I  guess  you  are  playing  us  a  trick."  So  we 
went  away.  I  know  not  what  became  of  the  cloth,  or  whether 
the  coat  has  been  made  or  not.  We  came  home,  however,  and 
went  again  to  Munich. 

On  the  Sunday  of  our  arrival  the  bacclianten  found  lodgings, 
but  we  three  little  schutzen  were  not  so  fortunate.  Toward  night 
we  sought  to  go  into  the  enclosure,  that  is  to  say  the  corn-market, 
in  order  to  lie  upon  the  sacks.  Several  women  were  sitting  there 
near  the  salt-house,  and  asked  where  we  were  going.  When 
they  learned  that  we  had  no  lodgings  and  that  we  were  Swiss, 
one  of  them,  a  butcher  woman,  said  to  her  maid  :  "  Set  the  pot 
with  what  soup  and  meat  is  left  over  the  fire.  They  must  stop 
with  me  to-night,  for  I  am  fond  of  the  Swiss.  I  once  served  at  a 
tavern  in  Innsbruck,  when  the  Emperor  Maximilian  was  holding 
his  court  there.  The  Swiss  had  much  to  do  with  him  at  that 
time.  They  were  so  kind  to  me  that  I  shall  be  fond  of  them  so 
long  as  I  live."  She  gave  us  enough  to  eat  and  to  drink,  and 
lodged  us  well.  Next  morning  she  said  to  us  :  "  If  one  of  you 
wishes  to  stay  with  me,  I  will  give  him  his  lodgings  and  his  meat 
and  drink."  We  were  all  willing,  and  asked  which  one  she 
wanted  ;  and  as  she  looked  us  over,  I  seemed  to  her  a  little 
livelier  than  the  others.  So  she  took  me,  and  I  had  nothing  to 
do  but  hand  her  her  beer,  bring  hides  and  meat  from  the 
shambles,  and  now  and  then  accompan)-  her  to  the  field  ;  but 
besides  this  I  had  to  support  my  bacchant.  That  displeased  the 
woman  and  she  said  to  me:  "  Good  heavens,  let  that  bacchant 
go,  and  stick  to  me  !  You  do  not  need  to  beg. ' '  For  a  week  I 
went  neither  to  my  bacchant  nor  to  school.  Then  came  my 
bacchant  and  knocked  at  the  door  of  the  butcher-woman's  house. 
She  said  to  me:      "Your  bacchant  is  there.     Say  that  30U  are 


THOMAS   PLATTER.  1 1 1 

sick  ;"  and  she  let  him  in.  She  said  to  him  :  "  You  are  a  pretty 
gentleman,  in  truth  ;  and  you  want  to  see,  do  you,  what  Thomas 
is  doing  ?  Well,  he  has  been  sick,  and  is  so  still."  Then  he  said: 
"  I  am  sorry,  youngster.  When  you  can  go  out  again,  come  to 
me."  Some  time  after  I  went  one  Sunday  to  vespers,  and  after 
vespers  he  said  so  me:  "Here,  you  schiitze,  you  don't  mean  to 
come  to  me  !  I  will  give  you  a  good  drubbing."  I  made  up  my 
mind,  however,  that  he  should  not  beat  me  any  more,  and  I  con- 
cluded to  run  away.  On  Monday  I  said  to  the  butcher-woman  : 
"  I  think  I  will  go  to  school  and  then  go  and  wash  my  shirt."  I 
dared  not  say  what  I  had  in  mind,  for  I  feared  that  she  might 
talk  me  out  of  it.  I  set  out  for  Munich  with  heavy  heart,  partly 
because  I  was  running  away  from  my  cousin,  with  whom  I  had 
travelled  so  far,  but  who  was  so  harsh  and  merciless  with  me. 
Then  too,  I  was  sorry  to  leave  the  butcher- woman,  who  had  been 
so  kind  toward  me.  I  crossed  the  river  Isar  ;  for  I  feared  if  I 
went  toward  Switzerland,  that  Paulus  would  follow  me.  He  had 
often  threatened  me  and  others,  that  if  any  one  should  run  away 
from  him,  he  would  pursue  him,  and  when  he  caught  him  he 
would  break  every  bone  in  his  body. 

Across  the  Isar  is  a  hill.  There  I  sat  down,  gazed  at  the  city 
and  wept  softly  to  myself,  that  I  had  no  longer  any  one  to  take 
me  up.  My  intention  was  to  go  toward  Salzburg  or  toward  Vienna 
in  Austria.  While  I  sat  there  a  peasant  came  along  with  a  wagon, 
carrying  salt  to  Munich.  He  was  already  drunk,  although  the 
sun  had  only  just  risen.  I  begged  of  him  to  let  me  ride,  and  he 
let  me  go  with  him,  until  he  unhitched  to  feed.  While  this  was 
going  on  I  begged  in  the  village  ;  and  not  far  beyond  the  village 
I  waited  for  him  and,  while  waiting,  fell  asleep.  When  I  awoke, 
I  wept  bitterly,  for  I  thought  the  peasant  had  gone  along,  and  I 
grieved  as  though  I  had  lost  a  father  ;  but  soon  he  came  along, 
now  thoroughly  befuddled.  He  told  me  to  mount  again  and  asked 
me  where  I  wanted  to  go.  I  said,  "  To  Salzburg  ;  "  and  when 
evening  came  he  left  the  highway  and  said  :  "Jump  down  :  there 
is  the  road  to  Salzburg."  We  had  travelled  eight  miles  during 
the  day. 

I  came  to  a  village,  and  when  1  arose  the  next  morning  such  a 
frost  had  fallen  that  it  was  like  snow,  and  I  had  no  shoes,  only 
tattered  stockings;  no  cap,  only  a  jacket  without  folds.  In  this 
guise  I  went  on   to  Passau,  and    from    there   it   was   my  intention 


112  SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE    GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

to  go  to  Vienna  by  the  Danube.  When  I  came  to  Passau  they 
would  not  let  me  in.  Then  I  determined  to  go  to  Switzerland,  and 
asked  the  watchman  at  the  city  gate,  which  was  the  nearest  way. 
He  said,  "  By  way  of  Munich  ;  "  but  when  I  replied  ;  "I  do  not 
wish  to  go  by  the  way  of  Munich.  I  had  rather  make  a  circuit  of 
ten  miles  or  even  further,"  he  pointed  out  the  way  by  Freisingen. 
There  is  a  high  school,  and  there  I  found  Swiss,  who  asked  me 
whence  I  came.  But  only  two  or  three  days  passed  before  Paulus 
came  with  a  halberd.  The  schutze  said  to  me:  "Your  bacchant 
from  Munich  is  here  looking  for  you."  Upon  this  I  ran  forth  from 
the  city  gate,  as  though  he  were  upon  my  heels,  and  made  for  Ulm. 

I  went  to  my  saddler's  wife,  who  formerly  had  warmed  my  feet 
in  the  rug.  She  took  me  into  her  house,  and  let  me  tend  the  tur- 
nips in  the  field.  This  I  did,  and  went  no  more  to  school.  Some 
weeks  later  a  certain  one,  who  had  been  Paulus'  comrade,  came  to 
me  and  said  :  "  Your  cousin  Paulus  is  here  and  looking  for  you." 
He  had  followed  me  for  eighteen  miles,  because  he  had  indeed 
lost  a  good  thing  in  me.  I  had  supported  him  for  years.  When 
I  heard  this,  although  it  was  night,  I  ran  out  through  the  city 
gate  toward  Constance,  but  grieved  to  myself,  for  it  hurt  me  sore 
that  I  must  leave  my  dear  mistress.  When  I  was  nearly  at  Mors- 
burg  I  ran  across  a  stone-mason  from  Thurgau.  We  met  a  young 
peasant,  and  the  stone-mason  said  to  me  :  "We  must  get  some 
money  out  of  this  peasant."  To  him  he  said:  "Here,  peasant, 
hand  out  your  money,  or  the  devil  fly  away  with  you  !  "  The  peas- 
ant was  frightened,  and  I  was  sore  afraid,  and  wished  I  was  some- 
where else.  The  peasant  began  to  pull  out  his  purse,  but  the 
stone-mason  said  :   "  That's  all !  I  was  just  joking  with  you." 

Thus  I  came  across  the  lake  to  Constance.  As  I  was  crossing 
the  bridge  I  saw  some  Swiss  peasants  in  their  white  jackets,  and, 
O  Lord,  how  glad  was  I  !  I  thought  I  was  in  the  kingdom  of 
Heaven.  I  came  to  Zurich,  and  found  there  some  big  bacchaiiten 
from  Wallis.  I  offered  to  beg  for  them  on  condition  that  they 
should  teach  me  ;  and  they  did  so,  as  the  others  had  done.  At 
that  time  the  Cardinal  von  Sitten  was  in  Zurich,  seeking  to  enroll 
citizens  of  Zurich  to  accompany  him  to  the  Pope's  dominions  ;  but 
it  had  rather  to  do  with  Milan,  as  the  sequel  proved  some  months 
later.  Paulus  sent  his  schiitze,  Hildebrand,  from  Munich,  to  tell 
me  I  should  come  back  to  him  ;  that  he  would  forgive  me.  I  did 
not  care  to  do  so,  and  remained  in  Zurich,  but  not  at  study. 


rrdA/ 


AA    000  907  995    5 

CENTRAL  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
University  of  California,  San  Die^o 

DATE  DUE 
vMXz    I 


MARVO  3  i379 


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UCSD  Libr. 

